PS 3531 
.f)28 S7 
1915 
Copy 1 







T.^.DENISON 6c COMPA NY CHICAGO; 



^^P^P 





DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Laree Catalogue Free. 
Price 15c eacti. Postpaid* Unless Different Price Is Given 



DRAMAS, COMEDIES, 
ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. 

M. F. 

Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 

acts, IVi hrs (25c) 8 8 

After the Game, 2 acts, \% 

hrs (25c) 1 9 

All a Mistake, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 4 4 

American Hustler, 4 acts, 2^ 

hrs .(25c) 7 4 

Arabian Nights, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 4 5 
As a Woman Thinketh, 3 acts, 

2V2 hrs (25c) 9 7 

At the End of the Rainbow, 3 

acts, 2^ hrs.- (25c) 6 14 

Bank Cashier, 4 acts, 2 hrs, 

(25c) 8 4 

Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 9 3 

Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2^ 

hrs (25c) 7 3 

Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Burns Rebellion, 1 hr (25c) 8 5 

Busy Liar, 3 acts, ly^ hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

College Town, 3 acts, 2^4 

hrs (25c) 9 8 

Corner Drug Store, 1 hr. 

(25c) 17 14 

Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs. . 7 4 
Daughter of the Desert, 4 

acts,- 2^ hrs (25c) 6 4 

Down in Dixie, 4 acts, 2^/4 

hrs v25c) 8 4 

Dream That Came True, 3 

acts, 2Va hrs (25c) 6 13 

Editor-m-Chiei, 1 hr (25c) 10 

Enchanted Wood, 1^ h.(35c).Optnl. 
Everj'youth, 3 acts, XYz hrs. 

(25c) 7 6 

Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 

hrs '. (25c) 4 4 

Fascinators, 40 min (25c) 13 

Fun on the Podunk Limited, 

IVz hrs i^r:><i) 9 14 

Heiress of Hoetown, 3 acts, 2" 

hrs (25c) 8 4 

High School Freshman, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 12 

Honor of a Cowboj', 4 acts, 2% 

hrs (25c) 13 4 

Indian Days, 1 hr (50c) 5 2 

In Plum Valley, 4 acts, 2V\ 

hrs (25c) 6 4 

Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs. . (25c) 5 4 
Jayville Junction, li/4 hrs. (25c) 14 17 
Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 

acts, 2^ hrs (25c) 6 12 

Lexington, 4 acts, 2J4 h..(25c) 9 4 



M. F. 

Light Brigade, 40 min (25c) 10 

Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2J4 hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 
Lonelyville Social Club, 3 acts, 

IH hrs (25c) 10 

Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 5 2 

Man from Nevada, 4 acts, 2^^ 

hrs (25c) 9 5 

Mirandy's Minstrels. . . . (25c) Optnl. 
New Woman, 3 acts, 1 hr.... 3 6 
Old Maid's Club, 1^ hrs.(25c) 2 16 
Old Oaken Bucket. 4 acts, 2 

hrs (25c^ 8 6 

Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 

XYa hrs. ... (25c) 12 9 

On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 

IVz hrs (25c)10 1 

Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 
Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2}^ hrs. 

(25c) 7 4 

Rustic Romeo, 2 acts, 2J4 

hrs (25c) 10 12 

School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1^ hrs. 6 5 
Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs. . 6 6 
Soldier of Fortune, 5 acts, 2^ h. 8 3 
Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 

Third Degree, 40 min (25c) 12 

Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 

2 hrs (25c) 6 4 

Tonj% The Convict, 5 acts^ 2]^ 

hrs (25c) 7 4 

Topp'o Twins, 4 acts, 2 h.(25c) 6 4 
Town Marshal, 4 acts, 254 

hrs (25c) 6 3 

Trip to Storvland, 1^ hrs. (25c) 17 23 
Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2% hrs. (25c) 8 3 
Under Blue Skies, 4 acts, 2 

hrs (25c) 7 10 

Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 
When the Circus Came to 

Town, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. (25c) S 3 
Women Who Did, 1 hr...(25c) 17 
Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 

FARCES, COIMEDIETAS. Etc 

April Fools, 30 min i 

Assessor, The. 10 min 3 2 

Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 

Bad Job, 30 min 3 2 

Betsy Baker. 45 min ......... 2 2 

Billv's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 

Billy's jNIishap. 20 min 2 3 

Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 

Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 

Box and Cox. 35 min 2 1 

Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 
Convention of Papas, 25 min., 7 

Countrv Justice. 15 min. 8 

Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY,PublishersJ54W.RandolphSt.. Chicago 



STAR BRIGHT 



A COMEDY DRAMA IN THREE ACTS 



BY 

EDITH F. A. U. PAINTON 

AUTHOR OF 

'A Prairie Rose" "A Burns Rebellion" "As a Woman Thinketh/ 
"The Class Ship," "The Graduate's Choice" "Clubbing a Hus- 
band" "Wanted: A Cook" "The Commencement Manual." 



DEDICATION 

Star bright Star right, 

Star of the Sunny Southern light, 

Would that thou may, would that thou might 

Accept the plot I weave tonight. 




CHICAGO 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY 

Publishers 



P3 353I 

STAR BRld^HT 



CHARACTERS. 

Lemuel Bright A ''Vile Worm of the Dusf 

William Walker Smith A Private Detective 

Walter Williams Smythe A Student from the ''V 

Arthur Pulver Otherwise Known as Westcott 

Jake Hoover Who Proves to be Slow, ^ut Sure 

Parson Williams A Friend in the Nick of Time 

Honor Bright The Wife 

Star Bright (Alias Madame Ormand) 

.The Elder Daughter 

Sunshine Bright The Younger Daughter 

Bird Denton . A College Girl 

Melinda Bendy With a Love for Romance 



Scene — Mountdale, a Village in the Adirondacks. 



Time — The Present. 



Time of Playing — Two Hours and Thirty Minutes. 



SYNOPSIS. 

Act I — Garden at the Bright Home. Late in the 
Summer. Morning. 

Act H — Sitting Room in the Bright Home. Afternoon 
of the same day. 

Act hi — Madame Ormand's Room at the Bright 
Home. Two Weeks Later. 



Notice. — Production of this play is free to amateurs, but the sole 
professional rights are reserved by the Publishers. 



COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY EBEN H. NORRIS;, 

©aiD 41345 

JUL 29 1915 ^^ 



STAR BRIGHT 



SYNOPSIS FOR PROGRAM. 

Act I — Jake makes a morning call. Bird tries to cure 
her disappointment by making herself useful. Smith re- 
ceives a royal welcome all around the family circle. Sun- 
shine and Bird exchange confidences. Smith solicits Bird's 
assistance. Westcott offers Sunshine a chance. Smith 
meets Sunshine. 'Tm on the job.'' 

Act II — The wickedness of the world. A game of check- 
ers with no prize at stake. Bird and Mrs. Bright discuss 
Westcott. Ethelbert Ferdinand Delancy's picture gives 
Bird an unpleasant shock. A faded dress with old-time 
memories. Smith confesses a fancy for Sunshine and fur- 
nishes, a program of "canned music" with varying effect. 
"That voice!" Jake practices a little to strengthen his 
muscle. Westcott plays a trump card and the game seems 
to turn in his favor. Bird holds the joker and the game is 
saved. "Don't you folks want some light?" "You shall 
marry her!" 

Act III — Sunshine hears the true story of the lost Star. 
Madame Ormand selects her room and wins Sunshine's 
confidence. "The picture with its face turned toward the 
wall." "Just in time for the ceremony !" Smith and Smythe 
have a clash and Ethelbert Ferdinand Delancy is unmasked. 
"Cremating a has-been!" Melinda and Jake arrive at last. 
Westcott refuses to be a quitter. "Do your worst, Madam ! 
I defy you!" The draping of the wedding veil serves to 
reveal the bride's heart. The divine purpose in a great 
sorrow. "This marriage cannot be. I forbid it!" Smith 
explains and Star comes into her own. College once more 
in sight of Sunshine. Bird introduces her real lover and 
all sunny dreams come true at once. Jake strikes a bargain. 
"Come on, 'Lindy!'' 

THE STORY OF THE PLAY. 

The scenes of this play are laid in Mountdale, a village 
in the Adirondack region. Lemuel Bright, a pious, narrow- 



4 STAR BRIGHT 

minded ^'pillar of the church," and his wife, Honor, who 
is a college woman, had two daughters. Star and Sunshine. 
When Star was sixteen years of age she was sent to college, 
where, clandestinely, she met an actor named Arthur Pul- 
ver, who induced her to elope with him for the stage career 
she had coveted from her infancy. As a result her father 
disowned her, and for twelve years her name was never 
allowed to be spoken in the home ; while the mother's grief 
over the father's attitude nearly cost her her life and con- 
demned her to an existence of almost hopeless invalidism. 

Twelve years after, at the time of the opening scenes 
of the play, this same man comes to the neighborhood under 
an assumed name, represents himself as an artist, and se- 
curing board in the Bright family endeavors to tempt Sun- 
shine to leave home with him in order to secure the college 
career her father has always denied her, because of her 
sister's experience, of which she herself knows nothing 
at all. 

The elopement is frustrated through the intervention of 
Smith, a private detective, who has come to the house as 
a boarder and been taken in by the different members of 
the family as the new minister, the new doctor, the new 
editor, the tax assessor and a phonograph agent, which is 
the role he himself has elected tO' play in the vicinity, as 
well as the lover of Bird Denton, a college girl, spending 
her vacation in the home, whose lover is a slightly different 
man with a slightly different name. In reality Smith has 
come to the village in the service of the absent daughter. 
Star, to prevent her betrayer from carrying out his nefa- 
rious designs against her sister. A phonograph record is 
employed to reveal to the detective the real state of mind 
of both the father and the mother regarding the lost daugh- 
ter, who comes in person to the old home in the guise of 
a boarder just in time to prevent her sister from being 
forced by her harsh father into marriage with the villain, as 
a means of saving her reputation, which he chooses to con- 
sider endangered by the attempted elopement. 

The detective then reveals to the astonished family the 
truth of the elder daughter's legal marriage, and all the 



STAR BRIGHT 5 

tangles are rapidly untwisted as the optimistic Sunshine is 
made happy by the promise of her longed-for college course, 
and the renewed joy of her mother and sister. 

The comedy is carried by a neighbor, Jake Hoover, and 
his matrimonial designs on Melinda Bendy, a romantic 
spirit employed in the Bright home, not to mention the 
soulful Ethelbert Ferdinand Delancy, whose mythical per- 
sonality, when finally unmasked, is a strong ally in Jake's 
cause. 



COSTUMES AND CHARACTERS. 

Bright — Acts I and H : Neat dark suit of the retired 
farmer. Act HI : Black suit for wedding. Make-up stout 
and imposing looking, about fifty years of age. Domineer- 
ing and haughty of carriage and expression. 

Mrs. B. — Acts I and H : Simple house wrapper, white 
shoulder shawl. Act HI : Dressy black silk with white 
lace cap. About forty-nine years old with hair prem_aturely 
white. 

Star — Very fashionable gown with all belongings in ac^ 
cord. Stylish wrap, picture hat, etc. She cannot be too 
elegantly dressed, as in contrast with the simpler apparel 
of the others. Wears dark glasses. Age, twenty-eight. 

Sunshine — Acts I and H : Simple summer dress of 
any preferred shade. Act HI: First entrance, simple 
house dress slipped over white muslin wedding gown. Sec- 
ond and third entrances, wedding gown very dainty and 
pretty, with veil, gloves, etc. Sixteen years of age. 

Smith — Acts I and H : Stylish suit, white preferred. Act 
HI : Black for wedding. Free and easy of movement, jolly 
and livelyo Age, twenty-four. 

Smythe — Fashionable street suit. Very dignified and 
haughty of mien. Twenty-five. 

Westcott — Act I: Artist's velvet coat, dark red pre- 
ferred, wide-brimmed hat. Act H : Light flannel suit. 
Act ni : Elaborate black for wedding. Between thirty- 
five and forty years of age. 



6 STAR BRIGHT 

Bird — Acts I and II : White duck suit, picture hat. 
Act III : Elaborate trained gown, but not to equal Star's in 
any degree. Age, twenty. 

Melinda— Acts I and II : Calico house dress with apron. 
Hair gray, in cork-screw curls. Age, forty. In last act as 
grotesque a dress-up as the fancy suggests. 

Jake — Overalls, old-fashioned straw hat, etc. At last 
entrance has attempted to dress up. He is about fifty years 
old, of the Uncle Sam style, chin whiskers, etc. 

Parson Williams — Clerical garb throughout, very stiff 
and dignified. 

PROPERTIES. 

Act I — For Jake: Rake, bucket of nails, old straw hat, 
red bandana handkerchief. For Melinda : Basin, apples, 
knife, photo. For Smith : Cards. For Mrs. Bright : 
Book. For Bird : Hat and apron, hand-bag, with, card. 
For Sunshine : Bunch roses, sunbonnet. For Westcott : 
Easel, sketch-book, palette, etc., cigars. 

Act II — For Mr. Bright: Newspapers and letter. For 
Jake: Stick and knife. For Sunshine and Westcott: 
Checker-board with checkers. For Bird: Book. For 
Smith : Phonograph, with records. For Sunshine : White 
silk dress, old-fashioned. Small valise. For Melinda : 
Photograph. For Mrs. Bright, Smith and Sunshine: 
White shoulder-shawl. 

Act III — For Sunshine : Photograph, handkerchief, veil, 
etc. For Star: Small grip with toilet articles, ribbons, 
handkerchiefs, fan, photograph, etc., books and magazines. 
For vSmith : Magazine. For Melinda : Photograph, poker. 
For Jake: Armful of wood, magazine. For Mrs. Bright: 
Star's photo, shears, etc. 

Other properties a part of stage setting. 



STAR BRIGHT 



SCENE PLOT. 




Act I. 



House 
with 
Porch 
and 
Steps Bench 



Garden Backing in 5 

Basket O ^ Tree Wing 



F^ 



n ^Yn Tree__ 

Rake' ^T ree Wing 

Bench\V 

^ Tree Wing 



Act II. 

Archway with 



Chair 
D 
fchairQ | | □ Chair 
Door table 

Rocking Chair^ j-j chair 



Curtains 



Rocking Chair 




Sofa 
Stool O 




1 



Act III. 

Wainscot Backing in 5 
— I Door I 



Rack 



Bed 1 ncurs gQ^^a 

Rocking |— J 

Chair ^""^^ 



\ 



Door 



Chair Q '© 




STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

R. means right of stage; C, center; R. C, right center; 
L., left, 1 E., first entrance ; U. E., upper entrance ; R. 3 £., 
right entrance, up-stage, etc.; R. D., right door; L. D., left 
door, etc. ; D. F., door in flat or back of the stage ; up-stage, 
away from footlights, down-stage, near footlights ; 1 G., 
first groove, etc. The actor is supposed to be facing the 
audience. 



STAR BRIGHT 



Act I. 

Scene: Garden at the Bright home. Set house, with 
practical door, windows and steps, at R. Benches at center 
front and left side. Plants and flowers in profusion. Rake 
lies on ground near L. 3 E., and an overturned pail, with 
large quantity of nails scattered over the ground near it. 
Just before curtain rises a sound is heard as of some one 
falling heavily, followed by an ejaculation of pain and im- 
patience. As curtain rises Jake is discovered picking him- 
self up from the ground and rubbing his knees, hips, etc., 
with wry face. 

Jake. Wonder who went and left that rake right there 
in the path for me to take a tumble over. And great guns ! 
Look at them nails ! Must be a million of 'em ! Don't seem's 
if I ever seed so many nails afore in all rny life ! {Begins 
to pick up the nails and put them in pail with loud clatter.) 
'Tain't a bit like Lem Bright to leave his truck layin' 'round 
this here way. How'd he expect a fellow to walk' 'round 
'em when he's busy thinkin' 'bout something else? (Me- 
LiNDA^ attracted by the noise, has come to zvindozv and 
stands looking out, smiling significantly and primping her 
hair, smoothing apron, etc.) 'Tain't no funny job picking 
all these up, and whoever says 'tis is a gol-durned liar! 
(Rubs leg, zvith expression of pain.) 'Tain't very healthy 
for shins, neither! Wonder where 'Lindy is. (Looks 
toward house and Melinda draws hastily back out of 
sight.) Guess I better see if she ain't got some arnicy layin' 
around handy. That stuff's powerful good for knocks, and 
that'll make a tip-top excuse for my comin' over this 
mornin', too. (Melinda keeps dodging back and forth at 
window, appearing and listening eagerly when he isn't look- 
ing and disappearing from view every time he turns tozvard 
the house.) Sort o' firing two stones at one bird, as you 



STAR BRIGHT 9 

might say- Seems like I've been tollable sweet on 'Lindy 
for years and years — ever since Hannah left this dreary 
vale of tears for mansions in the skies. {Pause, sadly 
thinking. Draws sleeve across eyes. ^Jelinda, zvatching, 
wipes eyes on apron.) But, gosh! Scares me like thunder 
when I think 'bout tellin' her, so she ain't likely to ever 
find it out. (Melinda winks and nods slyly.) Consarn a 
fellow anyw^ay that ain't got no spunk! Every day since 
Heck was a pup IVe trapsed over here in the hot weather 
and cold weather, the snow and the rain, calculatin' to up 
and tell 'Lindy just how doggoned crazy I be about her ; 
but Jerusalem ! Soon's I clap eyes on her with that shy smile 
o' hern, and them two eyes like pieces o' blue and yaller 
glass, it's all up with me. I just shut up tighter 'n a clam 
and can't cough up a word to save my soul from sin. 
(Straightens up, looking around carefully.) There! Them 
nails is 'bout all picked up, I guess ; but Jiminy ! my leg 
ain't none the better for it. (Pauses to rub leg, sitting 
bench.) 

Melinda comes to door of house with pan of apples 
and knife, pausing in door to watch him. 

Jake. Love's like the measles. When you catch it the 
second time it's apt to be a worse kind than the youngsters 
have, and goes a mighty lot deeper in with a fellow ! (Sighs 
and lapses into thought.) 

Melinda (walks dozvn to bottom step, looking all around, 
pretending not to see Jake).' Thought I heard somebody 
talking out here. Don't seem to see no one. (Jake rises 
slowly and comes toward her, but she zvalks around him 
looking off at different entrances and behind things, dodging 
him dexterously several times. Suddenly he stands still, and 
she, turning suddenly, meets him face to face in center of 
stage. She affects greatest surprise.) Why, for the land's 
sake, Jake Hoover ! How you do s'prise a body, don't you, 
now ? Why, I was just thinkin' 'bout you. Ain't seen a sign 
o' you, you know, -since yesterday 'bout this time. (JValks 
to bench, front, laughing teasingly.) You look sort o' tired. 
Jake. Be you tired? (He looks dozim, handling hat in both 



10 STAR BRIGHT. 

hands bashfully.) Better set down. IVe got to peel these 
here apples for pies. Might as well talk to you as not 
while I'm doing it. (Works while talking. Jake walks 
around uneasily, carrying his hat azvkwardly and looking 
out at all the entrances and eyeing the house cautiously as 
if fearfid of being overheard.) My tongue's working don't 
never hinder my hands a bit. 

Jake {pausing at right of her and coughing bashfully, 
clearing throat, etc., getting courage to speak). I — I — I just 
come over — 

Melinda {looking up with apparent indifference). Yes, 
I know, but it's just as cheap to set as 'tis to stand, and 
you'll stay 'bout so long, you know, anyway. {Laughs 
while he backs to steps and sits, zviping face zvith bright red 
handkerchief. Then looks far off, dreamily.) Ain't it just 
heavenly out here, Jake? {He nods sheepishly, looking at 
her admiringly.) Don't them clouds up there look just 
like living snowdrops floating 'round in a dish of bright 
blue ink or huckleberry juice? {Pointing up,) 

Jake {looking up, puzzled). I never seen no — 

Melinda. And don't they just make you feel like set- 
ting still all day, — {He nods emphatically, looking up at her 
admiringly from under eyebrows.) And just a-watchin' 
'em, and a-listenin' to the birds singing away, way off, and 
dreaming dreams, and seeing visions, and — 

Jake {rising nervously and zvalking uneasily back of the 
bench, eyeing her in perplexed way, trying to get out what 
he has come to say). I — I— t-why, I guess so, 'Lindy, but 
I— I— 

Melinda {innocently, continuing work). I'm going to 
write a piece of poetry about it soon's I get it all thought 
out. {Sighs.) But dear me ! I don't get much time to write 
these days, nor to do any dreaming, either, after five o'clock 
in the morning. {Looks around at Jake, who is pacing 
floor nervously behind her bench.) What in the world is 
ailing you, Jake? Got something on your mind? Do set 
down and keep cool. 

Jake {embarrassed, walks slowly to bench at L. and sits). 
Just as you say, 'Lindy. 



STAR BRIGHT 11 

Melinda (turns to face houses thinking he must be 
there). You see how it is, Jake — {sees he is not there and 
stops in surprise). For the land's sakes! (Looks all around, 
finally discovering him on bench L.) Oh, there you be, eh? 
(He nods sheepishly, zvhile she shores herself over to left 
end of her bench and turns to face him,) I just want to tell 
you, Jake, there's a big lot to do in this old house since Lem 
Bright took a notion to take these summer boarders. Don't 
nobody get much time to set around and swap news. 

Jake. How many — 

Melinda. There's that there artist — W'estcott, I b'lieve 
he calls himself — who's so mighty sweet on Sunny; and 
then there's that there college girl — ]\Iiss Dentist, or some- 
thing like that — and Lem Bright told me there's another 
fellow a-coming this morning; and the Lord only knows 
how many more. I'm mighty glad it's getting so near the 
end of the summer, when I can snatch something like a 
vacation, too. (Sighs.) There ain't no rest for the wicked. 

Jake. That artist chap — \\>stcott, you say — I don't just 
— (rises, walking around aimlessly. Melinda keeps turning 
around to face him and continually shifting position while 
she talks). 

Melinda. Neither do I — not a bit. And there's some- 
thing about him that ain't just square, and I know it. He's 
too sweet on Sunny to suit me, too. But 'twouldn't do no 
use to talk to her. A girl's a girl, and there ain't nothing 
going to make a woman out o' her 'cept experience of her 
very own. And I'm just afraid Sunshine Bright's going to 
get it sooner'n she bargains for, if something don't turn up. 

Jake (pausing directly behind her). Speaking of Star — 

Melinda (horrified, looking all around cautiously) . 'Sh! 
Can't you never keep your mouth shut, Jake Hoover? Ain't 
nobody speaking of Star nowadays, an 'tain't going to be 
very healthy for anybody who even dares to think of her 
around here. Why in the world don't you set down and act 
like white folks, Jake? You make a body so nervous. (JakTe 
sits on step R., but Melinda, busy zvith apples, continues 
to face bench at L., thinking him there.) But poor Sunny! 
She's just got her heart dead set on going off to college like 



12 STAR BRIGHT. 

that Dentist girl that's boarding here, and I do wish she'd 
get the chance. 

Jake. So do — 

Melinda. Goodness gracious ! You're over there now, 
be you? (Moves to other end of bench so to face him.) 
Yes, Sunshine Bright deserves to get just what she wants, 
if anybody does. 

Jake. What be the Brights taking — 

Melinda. Don't ask me. They don't tell me none of 
their business. Lem Bright's mighty close-mouthed, as well 
as close-fisted, as you may have noticed for yourself. But 
ever since Mrs. Bright's been a-doctoring so much, the bills 
must o' be'n toll'able big, and the boarders'll likely help out 
a lot on the money end of it. 

Jake (after embarrassed pause, trying to work his cour- 
age up to the speaking point). Speaking of Hannah — 

Smith enters L. 2 E., unseen by either, zualks around, 
sizing up the place. 

Melinda. Ain't nobody speaking of Hannah, Jake Hoo- 
ver. Ain't nobody even been thinking of Hannah 'less 'twas 
yourself. I was just a-sayin' — 

Smith (at C). Beg pardon, but is this the home of Lem- 
uel Bright? (Melinda springs up, basin in hand, Jake also 
rising and staring.) 

Melinda. It is, young fellow ; but you ain't got no cause 
to ask pardon for it, being as you're nowise likely to be to 
blame. Be you — 

Smith. Here's my card. (Hands card to Melinda.) 

Melinda. Thank you. (Sets basin on bench, wipes 
hands on apron and proceeds to examine card zvith great 
interest. Jake creeps up and looks at it over her shoulder.) 

Smith (searching pockets). Guess I have another. 
(Hands card to Jake.) 
* Jake. Thank you. (Studies card.) S-m-i-t-h. 

Smith. Yes, Smith — W. W. Smith. 

Melinda (looking up). 'Pears like I've heard that name 
somewhere before, Ain't you the new — 



STAR BRIGHT 13 

Smith. Boarder? YouVe struck it. Fm the guilty one. 
I cannot tell a lie. Where'll I find the landlord ? 

Jake, You mean Bright? 

Smith. I mean the boss of the ranch, whether he's es- 
pecially bright or not. Is he around home ? 

Melinda. You'll find him just inside the house there. 
You take him in, Jake. Fve just got to get these here apples 
peeled for them pies. (Smith walks up, looking off at 
back, while Melinda and Jake speak aside.) I'll bet he's 
the new editor of the Banner. The paper said he was 
coming this week, and it seems to me his name was Smith, 
or something like that. {Sits and resumes work.) 

Jake. More liable to be the tax assessor. Just 'bout 
time for him to be sticking his nose around. And his name 
was Smith, I'm sure. 

Smith {looking off L. U. E.). Beautiful scenery you 
have up here. That mountain ov€r there — those woods — 
that little scrap of lake in the distance — an ideal spot for 
a vacation. . {Turns back to them.) Many boarders? 

Melinda. Plenty. 

Smith Fine place for artists, and — 

Melinda. Humph ! We've got a plenty o' that sort, too. 

Smith {interested at once). Name? 

Melinda. My name's Melinda, sir — Melinda Bendy. 
{Coquettishly.) 

Smith. Yes, yes; glad to know it, I'm sure. But the 
artist — 

Melinda. Oh, he's Westcott — Arthur Westcott, he signs 
his name. 

Smith {nodding with satisfaction). Good! 

Melinda. Nothing to brag of. 

Smith I mean — oh, well, did you say the landlord 
was — 

Melinda. Jake will take you in to him. {Rises to make 
introduction, pointing with knife, while Jake dodges.) 
This is Jake, sir — Jake Hoover. 

Smith. Glad to know you, Jake. {Shake hands.) Now, 
if you'll show me — 

Jake {giggling, speaks aside to Melinda). He's from 



14 STAR BRIGHT 

Missouri. (Aloud.) Come on, Mr. — (Reads from card,) 
W. W. Smith, ril take you to Lem. (Exit through door 
into house, followed by Smith.) 

Melinda (resuming seat with giggle). Oh, that Jake! 
He thinks I don't know how crazy he is about me. Humph ! 
Maybe I wouldn't have caught on if he didn't have such a 
notion of always talking to himself. It's a lot more'n he 
favors other folks. Jake ain't much on the talk when there's 
folks around, but let him get off alone somewhere and he 
tells himself all he knows — and then some. So, of course — 
well, I ain't deef. I can't help hearing some things when I 
happen to be 'round. Jake's all right ; but my ! there ain't 
nothing a bit romantic about him, so far's I've ever been 
able to see. Now, Ethelbert Ferdinand Delancy- — my! he's 
a different sort altogether. Such soulful eyes ! Such a heav- 
enly smile! (Looks all around cautiously, then pulls photo 
from pocket and gazes at it.) Such speaking features ! Just 
like the gods that them old Greecy fellows used to write 
so much about. That poetry I wrote about him don't half 
tell it. If I'm ever so lucky as to meet that man — well, Jake 
won't — 

Bird enters L. 1 E., wearing hat, carrying parasol, etc. 
Melinda hurries picture back into her pocket and resumes 
work with air of great innocence. 

Melinda. Morning, Miss Dentist. Been walking? 

Bird. Only so far as the postofifice. (Walks listlessly 
about, looking discouraged and disappointed.) 

Melinda. Ain't it a lovely day, now? 

Bird. I — guess — so. Why, of course! 

Melinda (looking at her shrewdly). I reckon nice days 
is all in a person's mind. Sunny says they be. When you 
feel good inside, everything's lovely. When you don't, noth- 
ing seems to look good to you. 

Bird. I don't know but you're right, Melinda. 

Melinda (enthusiastically) . Gee! I sure do like the way 
you say that — ''Melinda." Most folks say just plain 
'"Lindy," and there ain't nothing romantic about that, is 
there, now? 



so? 



STAR BRIGHT IS 

Bird. No, I — why, I guess not, ]\Ielinda. Do you think 



Melinda. Humph ! She's got something on her mind, 
all right. Might as well talk to the pump, and do the pump- 
ing yourself. 

Bird (trying to collect herself, walks back of bench and 
stands behind Melinda, looking at her). But you were say- 
ing, the weather — 

Melinda. Yes, I was saying just that. The weather — 
they don't have no such days as these nowhere else. Least- 
wise I never read of any, and I always read the Banner 
clear through every week, till I know it 'most by heart. 
The sun is brighter here, the skies are bluer, the grass is 
greener, and the air is sweeter than any other place in all the 
world. I wrote a piece of poetry about it once and they 
printed it in the Banner, and everybody thought it was 
just too sweet for anything. 

Bird. \\^ell, there's trouble somewhere — 

Melinda. How do you know it ain't in yourself ? 

Bird. I don't. (Sits after looking all around and off at 
all entrances.) I didn't see Miss Sunshine anywhere. (Sits 
step, removing hat, gloves, etc.) 

j\Ielinda. Most likely she's trapsing off with that painter 
fellow as usual. 

Bird. You don't seem to be very partial to Mr. West- 
cott. 

Melinda (cautiously). Well, I can't say as I'm plum 
crazy about him. I've seen pictures of men I liked the 
looks of a heap better. (Bird sighs.) You don't look any 
too chippering, Miss Dentist. Anything gone wrong? 

Bird. No. — that is — er — no. Peeling apples? 

Melinda (dryly). No, frying fish. 

Bird (laughs). It zi^as a foolish question, wasn't it? 
(Rises.) .Can't I help you? 

Melinda (amazed). You? 

Bird. Please. 

Melinda (looking her over critically). But — 

Bird (coaxingly). I do so want to be just a little bit 
useful. I'm wild to ''do something for somebody, quick!" 



16 STAR BRIGHT 

Melinda. But that dress — well, I s'pose I can get you 
one of my aprons if you're so set on it. Most likely you'll 
cut yourself into pieces. {Goes door. Speaks aside at en- 
trance,) Course she'll hinder a lot more'n she'll help, but 
she needs a job o' some kind to rub that sorry look out of 
her face. I guess I can stand it if she can. {Exits.) 

Bird {sits bench C). Four whole days since I had a let- 
ter. I didn't think Walter would take me so in earnest. I 
wasn't really jealous, anyway. I wish — 

Mrs. Bright enters from house, pauses on steps. 

Mrs. Bright. Sunny! Sunny! {Walks slowly down 
steps. Carries book, with finger between pages to keep 
place.) Ah, you here alone. Miss Denton? I wonder where 
Sunshine is? 

Bird. She went out with Mr. Westcott, I think. 

Mrs. B. {troubled). Mr. Westcott? How long ago? 

Bird. Right after breakfast, I believe. {Moves to L. of 
bench, making room.) Hadn't you better sit down, Mrs. 
Bright? I'm afraid you'll — 

Mrs. B. {walking to bench slowly). Perhaps I had. I'm 
not good for much these last years. {Sits.) 

Bird {looking at title of book). What are you reading? 

Mrs. B. {opening book). Oh, it's just a little volume of 
Emerson. He's about my only consolation nowadays. When 
I was at college — 

Bird. Oh, Mrs. Bright, are you a college girl, too? 

Mrs. B. Yes, indeed. I was a college girl with just such 
ideals and ambitions as I see you have. How it has carried 
me back to those days to have you with us. My name was 
Honoria Nelson — 

Bird {enthusiastically). Smith, '85? 

Mrs. B. Everybody called me ''Honor" — 

Bird. Yes, indeed. Why, the girls tell yet of the ac- 
complishments of Honor Nelson. Shake for Smith ! 

Mrs. B. {giving her hand). When I married — soon 
enough after graduation — I was proud enough of my new 
name — ''Honor Bright." 



STAR BRIGHT 17 

Bird. To think it's you — really you — IVe heard so much 
about. Why, even the professors — 

Mrs. B. Yes, yes ; I know. They made too much of me. 
(Bird looks at her protestingly and is about to speak, when 
she resumes.) Well, I've kept my honor bright, Miss Den- 
ton, through everything; but it's the only thing about me 
that is still bright. Once I — but, never mind. Life's been 
too big a thing for me, that's all. (Bird looks down at L., 
shaking head.) What's the matter. Miss Denton? 

Bird. Please call me "Bird." We're college mates, you 
know. I was just wondering why you, a college-bred 
woman, could so object to having Sunny — 

Mrs. B. (stops her by a gesture). Don't. It's not my 
wish. It's — it's — oh, I couldn't explain so you wguld un- 
derstand. 

Bird (looking off L.). If Mr. Bright— 

Mrs. B. (jumps up frightened). Where? 

Bird. Goodness knows. Do sit down, Mrs. Bright. (As- 
sists her to resume seat.) I was just going to say — (sits 
while speaking). 

Melinda (in house). Miss Dentist! (Bird jumps up 
again.) Come in here a minute. Miss Dentist. 

Bird. Excuse me, Mrs. Bright. I'll be back — 

Mrs. B. Certainly. (Reads.) 

Bird (in door). Before I'd be so afraid of anything in 
the shape of a man I'd stay single till judgment day. (Exits 
in house.) 

Smith, after a pause, enters from house. 

Smith. That Jake said Mr. Bright was in there, but I'm 
blessed if I — (Mrs. B. 7ises as he descends steps, and see- 
ing her, addresses her.) Ah, beg pardon, madam. I'm look- 
ing for Mr. Bright. I am — (hands her his card). 

Mrs. B. Ah, Smith. (Aside.) The new doctor already. 
(Aloud,) I am Mrs. Bright. (Sits.) We weren't expecting 
you quite so soon, but I am glad you could manage to get 
here. I've not been feeling at all well lately. I am really 
afraid — 



18 STAR BRIGHT 

Smith (sits beside her). It won't bother you to have me 
here for a week or two, will it? You see, I — 

Mrs. B. Oh, not at all. I think it will be much better 
for me to have you right here in the house all the time, close 
by me. 

Smith (astounded. Aside). Gee! Took a shine to the 
cut o' my hair, I guess. (Aloud.) Vm glad to hear it, Mrs. 
Bright- I— 

Mrs. B My head pains me so much, and my heart beats 
too fast, and— 

Smith (mystified). Whew! 

MrSo B. But I just can't take pills, or those nasty queer 
tablets. Please don't say I have to. 

Smith. Me? Should say not. I'd be in for firing the 
whole bunch of 'em out of the window instanter. 

Mrs. B. (visibly relieved). Oh, I am so glad. I was so 
afraid you'd make me take them, and — I've had to swallow 
so much medicine the last few years that — it is so good of 
you not to make me. 

Smith (aside). Is she out of her head, or am I ? (Aloud.) 
Why, I never made anybody take anything in all my life, 
Mrs. Bright. I'm the most good-natured fellow that way 
you ever saw. 

Mrs. B. It's such a relief to learn that. I've dreaded 
your coming so. 

Smith (amazed). Now that's tough on me. 

Mrs. B. But now I'm so glad you're here. I'm sure 
you'll make another woman out of me. 

Smith. Whew! Some undertaking! 

Mrs. B. Yes, but, you see, I— — I — 

Jake enters from house. 

Mrs. B. How do you do, Jake? (Rises.) 

Jake. Howdy, Mrs. Bright. I just come over — 

Mrs. B. To see 'Lindy, of course. 

Smith (aside). What in the world does that woman 
think I am? (Walks L.) 

Jake. Yes, but she didn't have much to say to me. She 
never does. 



STAR BRIGHT 19 

Mrs. B. (stands by Jake at foot of steps) . She will, Jake. 

Jake. She either likes me or else she don't — one oi the 
six. With that fine farm o' mine — and you know yourself, 
Mrs. Bright, there ain't none any bigger nor better about 
these parts — and the showy house and yard — gee ! Should 
sure think they'd tempt any woman that knew a good thing 
when she saw it. 

Smith (walks back toward them). Back again, are you, 
Mr. Who — who — who — what's your name, anyhow ? I meet 
so many — 

Jake (uneasily). My name's Hoover. But I aint got no 
property around here that's worth your looking at, sir. 

Mrs. B. (to Smith). Don't you think I'd better go in 
out of the chilling air ? 

Smith. Why, just as you think, madam, of course. 
Permit me. (Gives her his arm and assists her up steps 
and into house, then turns back.) 

Jake (watching him). Darn an old assessor, anyhow. 
They're always too blamed inquisitive. 

Smith (returning) . You were saying^- 

Jake. Just a few little acres o' land that ain't worth — 
why, ain't really worth five dollars an acre, sir, upon my 
word, and a ramshackle old house, not any better'n a hut — 

Smith (puzzled). Well, that's bad. Sorry for you, old 
chap. But I don't see how I can — 

Jake (eagerly). Oh, yes, you can. You can cut down 
a lot. Why, my taxes last year was more than the hull 
place was worth, sir. Yes, sir, they was — a lot more. 

Smith (sympathetically). Tough, wasn't it? 

Jake. Tough? Well, now, you'd think — why, just come 
out here, sir, and let me — (attempts to lead him out L. 3 E.) 

Mr. Bright enters L. 1 E. 

Bright. Morning, Jake. And Mr. — (looks at Smith 
inquiringly, who fishes out a card and hands him.) Ah! 
"W. W- Smith." (Aside.) That was our new pastor's 
name, wasn't it? (Looks at him. closely a minute, then ex- 
tends hand.) I'm very glad to meet you, Brother Smith. 
Thought it might be another week before you got here, but 



20 STAR BRIGHT 

the hand of Providence has been working for us, I see. I 
am glad to see you. 

Smith (aside). Everybody's giving me the glad hand, 
all right. I was never so popular in my life. (Aloud.) 
Well, I'm glad to be here, Mr. Bright. 

Bright. Brother Edgeworth didn't seem to suit us old- 
fashioned Christians up here any too well. He was too easy- 
like on the sinners. We wanted something more solid. We 
are just vile worms of the dust, and it doesn't become us 
to pretend to be anything better. I hope you'll give us 
plenty of hell-fire. Brother Smith. Plenty of brimstone ! 

Smith. Why — why — I'll do my best. That's what I'm 
here for, I guess. But — but — 

Jake. Guess I'd better be jogging. You don't need to 
call to my place at all, sir. I ain't got nothing, I tell you. 
(Shambles out at L. \ E.) 

Smith (watching him off). Not a very hospitable chap, 
I should judge. 

Bright. It's not for me to criticize, of course. Brother 
Smith, but I don't just like your clothes. They — 

Smith. What? These? Why, they're the very latest in 
New York. I thought them pretty swagger — 

Bright. Swagger? I don't understand. They don't 
seem quite dignified enough for your position. 

Smith. Sorry. I didn't bring a change, either. 

Bright. Not even for Sunday? 

Smith (amazed). Sunday? No. Didn't know it was the 
custom up here — 

Bright. You'll shock the congregation. They expect a 
certain amount of cloth — 

Smith. Why, I surely bought stuff enough — 

Bright. Just come in here, Brother Smith, and I'll try 
and make it clear. 

Smith. Well, I surely hope you can. (They go to house.) 
I — I — I — don't understand this place. It's the limit, right. 
(Follozvs Bright into house.) 

Jake (peeps in at L. 1 E.). Has he gone? Gee! I'll bet 
he'll sock it to old Bright for all he's worth. (Exits zvith 
chuckle of satisfaction.) 



STAR BRIGHT 21 

Bird enters from house, wearing large apron. Melinda 
follozvs. 

Bird. This is such a strange family. Is Mrs. Bright 
always sick? 

Melinda. Always has'been since — well, since Fve known 
her. I ain't a-saying but what she has a right to be, neither, 
the way that man o' hers carries sail. {They sit on bench, 
front, peeling apples.) It's a wonder Sunny and me ain't 
sick, too. 

Bird. Why, I thought Mr. Bright was a very nice man 
— so religious, you know, and — 

Melinda. Oh, gracious ! He's religious enough. He's 
got the church fever so bad that he sleeps with a Bible under 
his pillow and sings hymns in his sleep. But Tve lived long 
enough to know^ Miss Denton, that the most religious people 
ain't always the easiest people in the world to get along 
with. Not by a long ways. And Lem Bright is so s.et in 
his ways that you couldn't move him with dynamite. 

Bird. Do you think he'll let Sunshine go to college this 
fall? 

Melinda. Never ! 

Bird. Why? 

Melinda. Just his meanness. Says big schools are a 
contrivance of the devil. 

Bird, How funny! 

Melinda. Well, I ain't a-saying anything, but — he's got 
his reasons. 

Bird. Always a mystery. One doesn't look for dark 
secrets and skeletons in the closet and things like that in 
such quiet rural places. 

Melinda. We find lots o' things in this world we don't 
exactly look for, Miss Dentist — Denton. I never do seem 
able to remember your name. Now there's Jake — 

Bird {looking around quickly). Where? 

Melinda. Oh, goodness knows. But he has to be con- 
sidered. He's always hangin' around somewhere near by. 

Bird {after a pause). Mrs. Bright seems to be an ex- 
ceptionally well educated woman. 



22 STAR BRIGHT 

Melinda. Mercy, yes. She knows everything there is 
to know, I reckon. 

Bird. And Sunny is her only child ? 

Melinda. Why — er — I — (rises, embarrassed). I — I — 
I think we've got apples enough for the pies now, Miss Den- 
ton, and I'd better get at 'em. (Hurries into house.) 

Bird (rising). How strange she acts. What did I say? 
Oh, I don't know. I'm liable to say anything today. Why 
doesn't Walter write ? (Laughter out L.4 E.) There comes 
Sunny. She is rightly named "Sunshine," bless her bright 
eyes. I couldn't endure it here the way Walter's acting if 
it wasn't for her. 

Enter Sunshine and Westcott, L. 4 E. Sunshine 
carries large bunch of roses. Westcott, easel, sketch-book, 
palette, etc. Bird meets them at center-back. 

Bird. How can you be so happy. Sunny? 

Sunshine (surprised). Why, how can I help it? 

Westcott (bowing). Miss Bright knows how to find the 
sunshine bright in the heart of every shadow. Miss Denton. 

Bird. Well, we mustn't judge her too harshly for that, 
Mr. Westcott. Most likely she can't help it. But, Sunny, 
it's a crime to expect anybody born into this prosy old world 
to live up to a name like yours. (To Westcott.) Any pic- 
tures? (Peeps at easel.) 

Westcott (slightly confused). Only a few rough 
sketches — nothing worth your looking at. 

Sunshine. Why, I think they're just lovely. Show her 
the one of — 

Westcott (hastily). No, no. (Carries easel, etc., to 
porch and covers it carefully.) 

Sunshine. A real artist is so sensitive about his work. 
(Looks after him.) 

Bird. And of course he spent his time looking at you 
and talking about — well, the weather, or something like that, 
and — (Smiles significantly as Sunshine looks down bash- 
fully Speaks aside.) Where have I seen that fellow before? 
I don't know any artists, I'm sure, yet every time I see him I 
have a fit of wondering. (To Sunshine.) What lovely roses. 



STAR BRIGHT 23, 

SuNSH'iNE (holding bunch to Bird's nose). Yes. Aren't 
they sweet? 

Bird. Ouch ! Isn't it a pity that there has to be a thorn 
with every rose? 

Sunshine (laughs merrily). Now, IVe always been so 
thankful that there was a rose with every thorn. And, oh. 
Bird! (Walks front.) You just ought to see how they 
clamber up over the side of the house and hide the bleak, 
weather-beaten old boards under a robe of beauty. Of 
course, we know the boards are there, but we just forget 
it and enjoy the roses. 

Bird. You'd make anybody forget all the ugly things, 
Sunny, if they could have you with them all the time to 
keep them covered up. 

Sunshine (leads Bird to bench L. and sitting with her). 
Stay with me all the time, then. Bird. I'd love to have you. 

Westcott. She never asked me. (Returns from easel.) 

Sunshine (laughing). Don't seem to need a brother. 
But a sister — how I have longed for one ! (Pause.) I had a 
sister once. Her name was Star. (Westcott drops head 
and turns back, looking off up stage.) 

Bird. Star? (Aside.) That was Madame Ormand's 
name Could it be — 

Sunshine. Yes. Wasn't it lovely? Mamma was a poet, 
you know, and she liked the swing of the ''Star Bright." 
But — nobody ever mentions her. (Westcott looks back at 
them, frowns a7id walks off idly at L. A E.) Mamma and 
papa will never even let me speak of her. 

Bird. Why? 

Sunshine. All I know is what the old folks tell me over 
town. Everybody remembers her there and raves about her 
beauty. They say the young people used to call her 
"Star Bright, Star Bright, 
Fairest Star I've seen tonight! 
I wish I could, I wish I might 
Live forever in thy light!" 

and rhymes like that. 

Bird. Where is she now? 



24 STAR BRIGHT 

Sunshine (slowly). She went to college — Vassar — and, 
I think — she died there. 

Bird. Died? (Aside.) Then it couldn't be Madame Or- 
mand, though I'm sure there's a great tragedy in her life. 
(Aloud.) How sad! Do you remember her? 

Sunshine. A little. I was only four when she went. 
She was about twelve years older than I, you see. But I 
can still see her bright eyes, her red cheeks and dark hair, 
and feel the touch of her soft fingers on my face as she 
came to my bedside to kiss me good-bye. Often, at night, 
I wake and think of her even yet, and I am sixteen now, 
you know. Mamma nearly died when it happened, what- 
ever it was that took her from us. She has never been w^ell 
since, and I dare not even think of Star when I'm with her 
and papa. He was very angry the last time I — (suddenly 
checks herself and jumps up, turning to face Bird and 
shaking finger at her playfully.) But Bird, why are you so 
glum? Don't you know nobody has a right to be unhappy 
in this bright and beautiful world? 

Bird. Nobody could be if you — ^but, oh, Sunny, let me 
tell you. (Sunshine sits again beside her.) I — I — I — I 
have a lover! 

Sunshine (jumps up again, clapping hands). I knew it! 
I knew it ! I felt it in all my bones. Isn't it just lovely to be 
loved, loved, loved, better than anybody else in all of some- 
body's world? What's his name? 

Bird (after searching handbag at waist). Here's his 
card. 

Sunshine (studying card). S-m-y-t-h-e, Smith. W. W. 
Smith. 

Bird. He pronounces it Smythe — long sound of *'i," you 
know. He is studying law, and — 

Sunshine. Um-humph! Same old Smith, though, isn't 
he? Oh, isn't it lovely? (Dances again.) All the world 
loves a lover. 

Bird. But wait, you enthusiastic child, while I tell you. 
(Sunshine sits again to listen.) We have had a quarrel. 

Sunshine (jumps up eagerly, looking all around). Has 
he been here? 



STAR BRIGHT 25 

Bird. No. Just a letter quarrel, you know. (Sunshine 
sits again.) I thought he was being too nice to another girl. 

Sunshine {reproachfully). Oh, Bird! 

Bird. And I — I — well, I just told him so, as any other 
girl would, and — he hasn'-t written me a line for three whole 
days ! 

Sunshine {ivith mock sympathy). Oh, my! What a long, 
long time! Aren't you just pining away? 

Bird. You're laughing at me. 

Sunshine {astounded). Laughing? 

Bird. Oh, well, making fun. 

Sunshine. No, Bird, it is you who are making the fun. 
I'm just helping myself to my share. (Bird rises and walks 
to R. indignantly. Sunshine follows, overtakes her just 
hack of bench, front, and throws arm around her coax- 
ingly.) Now, don't you go and be hurt by my teasing. Bird. 
It's so funny, when you know everything's so sure to come 
right. 

Bird. But Fm not so sure. 

Sunshine. Can't you take my word for it? (Bird looks 
down, hesitating.) Everything always has come out right, 
hasn't it? 

Bird, Y-e-e-s. 

Sunshine. Well, isn't that a pretty good sign that it 
always will? {Walks R.) 

Westcott enters L. 4 E., watching. 

Westcott. She's a peach of a girl, all right, if she wasn't 
so infernally straight. A fellow's got to handle her w^th 
velvet gloves. Well, there's more than one way to get next 
to a petticoat, and I have never lost the game yet. {Exits, 
zvatching over shoulder till well off.) 

Sunshine {walks to Bird, shaking finger play f idly). 
Answer me, young lady. Isn't it one of the surest signs 
there is? 

Bird. I suppose so — to you. All signs seem to come 
true to you. 

Sunshine. Of course. Because I believe in them so 
much. They have to. {Walks L., looking off L. 2 E.) Let's 



26 STAR BRIGHT 

go look for four-leaved clovers and you can wish for your 
letter. 

Bird. I never find any. 

Sunshine. I always do. I just feel them, somehow, 
calling me to the right spot. There's a new moon tonight, 
too. 

Bird. I'll be sure to see it over my left shoulder. 

Sunshine. Don't you dare. 

Bird. You're born lucky. I wasn't. 

Sunshine. Oh, Bird! Don't say that. You can't see 
even the biggest doughnut, you know, if you persist in star- 
ing at the hole. 

Bird. But when it's all hole — 

Sunshine. It never is, unless you think so. Don't you 
think you're apt to find everywhere just what you get the 
habit of looking for? 

Bird. Didn't get my letter when I looked. Oh, Sunny, 
do you always get everything you want? 

Sunshine (still looking L.). Always have, sooner or 
later, if I kept on wanting. Bird, see here. (Bird crosses 
to L.). Look out there at those roses climbing over the trel- 
lis. Aren't they lovely? 

Bird. Um-humph ! 

Sunshine {points). See that big, creamy white one — 
at the very top? 

Westcott re-enters L. 4 E. and walks to bench front, 
leaning over it and listening to girls. 

Sunshine. It's the prettiest one there's been this year 
— simply perfect. I can't possibly reach it, standing on 
tip-toe, and stretching myself up as high as I can. It's 
always away over my head. {Leads Bird back to bench 
L.) Bird, that's going to college. I have never wanted 
anything so badly as that in all my life, and your being here 
has made me want it harder than ever. Sometime I'm. go- 
ing to have it. {They sit.) 

Bird {incredidoiisly). How do you know? 

Sunshine. Because I must. 1 couldn't possibly want 
it so bad if it wasn't meant for me. The white rose won't 



STAR BRIGHT 27 

always be too high for me. It will have to bend down, or 
else ril grow up to it. (Westcott has listened with the 
most intense interest. Now strolls out L. 1 E. again, smok- 
ing a cigar.) That's like your Mr. Smith. It's just got to 
come right, if you don't get over wanting it to. (Rises.) 
Now come on out for clovers. 

Bird. What's the use? 

Sunshine. You mean, what's the odds? I read once 
in some magazine or newspaper, *' Nothing goes out of your 
life except to make room for something better." I always 
keep saying that over and over to myself when everything 
seems to be going wrong. So, if Mr. Smith's gone, we'll 
just — just — hunt up Mr. Jones. 

Bird. Humph ! 

Sunshine. Don't like that name? 

Bird. Where did you get hold of all this sort of thing. 
Sunny? (Rises,) 

Sunshine. Oh, just thinking. I've been alone a lot, 
you know, and the birds and the bees have taught me quite 
a bit. You must just forgive your Mr. Smith, Bird. If 
you can't forget him, why, of course, it isn't meant for 
you to. I'm going in and put my flowers in water now, 
and get my sunbonnet, and we'll go seek our luck. I'll wish 
for my college and you for your letter. See? (Sings while 
ascending steps:) 

'T know the spot 
In the meadow lot 

Where the four-leaved clovers grow." 

(Turns at door.) You'll forgive him, won't you, for mak- 
ing you jealous? • 

Bird. Maybe — for that. But — (hesitates). 

Sunshine. Well? 

Bird. I'm afraid I can't, ever, for not writing. 

Sunshine. Course you can. We have to forgive people 
or Hfe wouldn't be Worth living. No time for hard feel- 
ings. Put on your hat. I'll be right back. (Exits through 
door.) 



28 STAR BRIGHT 

Bird -(walks to bench L. to pick up hat). If everybody 
only had her disposition. 

Westcott re-enters L. 1 £., looks all around. 

Bird. Sunshine isn't here, Mr. Westcott. {He removes 
hat and exits with low bow.) He's got his eye on Sunny, 
all right, and I fear for no good purpose. {Crosses to steps 
of house while talking.) I don't trust him, somehow. He 
looks like — who in the world does he look like, anyway? 
{At steps turns to look off L.) 

Smith enters quietly from house and descends step be- 
hind her. 

Bird. I could probably remember if I wasn't so — so — so 
miserable about Walter. {Jabs pin up and down in hat 
viciously.) Plague a man, anyhow! {Weeps.) Oh, Wal- 
ter, Walter! How could you believe me? {Hears Smith 
stepping behind her and turns to face front.) No, I won't 
forgive him! (Smith dodges and looks frightened at 
her tone.) I won't, do you hear? {Stamps foot. Smith 
dodges again and trembles in fear.) Take this in the house 
and — {holds out hat to Smith without looking at him.) 

Smith {taking hat). With pleasure, madam, but — 

Bird {screams). O-o-o-o-h! 

Smith. Don't be afraid, madam. I assure you I'm 
harmless. 

Bird. Pardon me, but who are you? 

Smith. Blamed if I know. Here's my card. Who do 
you think I am? 

Bird {reading card). Smith, eh? A new boarder? 

Smith {flourishing Bird's hat and bowing lozv). At your 
service. 

Bird. You're the man that wrote — 

Smith {with gesture of protest). Not guilty. 

Bird. Your business? {Takes hat from him, puts it on.) 

Smith. Blamed if I know. {Aside.) I Hke her looks. 
I'll take her into my confidence. {Searches stage cautiously. 
As he looks off L. 1 E. Wescott looks in and they eye 
one another suspiciously. Then Westcott disappears again 
and Smith walks to bench, front, standing behind it. 



STAR BRIGHT 29 

Bird has in the meantime seated herself there, watching him 
curiously.) Do you know this family well? 

Bird. Not very. {Pause.) Why? Do you? 

Smith. Well — er — not exactly. {\Ny.stcott looks in 
again, eying them.) But they all seem to know me mighty 
well — and each one in a different way. {Leans closer over 
her as Westcott withdraws again.) But you look like a 
girl who can keep a secret. Can you? 

Bird. If it's worth it? 

Smith. This is. 

Bird. Try me. 

Smith. I will. {Looks around,) 

Just then Westcott enters L. 1 E., looks around and 
walks out again L. 2 E. 

Smith. But, blame that fellow hanging around all the 
time. Tm afraid he smells a mouse already. 

Bird. Smells what? 

Smith {walks to front of bench, to sit beside her). You 
see, it's this way — {looks around as Westcott looks in.) 
Oh, blast it all, I can't tell you here. {Rises.) Come on in 
the house. Let's find a nice, quiet little place — 

Bird {rises). I can't just now. Sunny's coming, and — 

Smith. Sunny? I haven't met her yet, but — 

Bird. You want to? 

Smith {significantly). There's a reason. {Looks L., 
nodding.) And that rascal — 

Bird {cautiously, on the alert at once). I see. Detective? 

Smith {looking all around). Hush! 

Westcott re-enters L. 2 E. 

Smith. As I was just saying, I just love to sell phono- 
graphs. It's the one all-absorbing passion of my life. Lot's 
of money in it, too. All the people up here are just eating 
them up. (Westcott^s anxiety is visibly relieved and he 
strolls back out L. 4 E.) I'll go in now, and — er — look at 
the photograph album, if I can find it — I adore photo- 
graphs, don't you? You follow when you can. See? And 
don't be surprised at anything you may hear and see. I 
need your help. 



30 STAR BRIGHT 

Bird. Count on me. 

Smith. Put it there, pal. {They shake hands. He exits 
in house.) 

Bird (walks back to bench L.). What can it all mean? 
But there is a big mystery in this house somewhere, and I 
hope he can clear it up. 

Sunshine enters from house, wearing sunbonnet. 

Sunshine. How do you like it? 

Bird (meets her at C). It's just too sweet for anything 
— except you, you dear child. But I can't go, after all, 

^' Westcott re-enters L. 4 E. 

Sunshine. Why not? 

Bird. Oh — why — I don't — I have such a dreadful head- 
ache. I must keep out of the sun. I think I'll go in the 
kitchen and help Melinda with her pies. You won't mind, 
will you? (Looking back over shoulder at steps.) 

Sunshine. Not if it's what you really want to do most 
of all. Bird. 

Bird (at top of steps). Well, it is — I'm sure it is. 
(Exits.) 

Sunshine (at front bench). Poor Bird! It's more the 
heartache than the headache, and a little real work will do 
it good. 

Westcott (aside). Wonder why I insist upon hanging 
around here, after all these years. Who knows better than 
I what a dangerous nest of hornets I'm stirring up? Well, 
it's the uncertainty, of course, that makes it so devilishly 
interesting. I'm too much of a gambler not to thoroughly 
enjoy playing the game, and playing it for all there is in it. 
(Crosses to Sunshine.) Miss Sunshine, do you really 
want so much to go to college? 

Sunshine (sits). Oh, yes! yes! 

Westcott (sits beside her). And you can't give it up? 

Sunshine. Why, I mustn't give it up. I must keep on 
wishing and wishing and wishing. If I wish hard enough 
and long enough, it can't help coming to me, can it? 

Westcott. Sunny, I feel that I can help you. 



STAR BRIGHT 31 

Sunshine. You? {He nods.) Oh, how? \Jumps up 
eagerly.) 

Westcott. Sit down again and let me tell you. {She 
sits.) It is quite right for you to go to college. 

Sunshine. But not unless papa — 

Westcott {decidedly). Yes, even "unless papa'' — 

Sunshine. But — 

Westcott. No "buts" to it. Listen. I have loads of 
money, Sunny, just lying idle waiting for a chance to do 
somebody some good. You needn't depend on papa at all. 

(Smith descends from house cautiously, crosses to L. 4 
E. and exits, unnoticed. He listens and watches slyly all 
the way across.) 

Westcott. I can loan you more than you will need, 
and when you begin to earn for yourself, you can easily 
pay me back. There'd be no trouble about that. 

Sunshine. But how — 

Wescott. Just pack your little grip and I'll take you 
to my sister — a Vassar grad., you know — and she'll see to 
everything. When you are gone — 

Sunshine {rises, horrified). You don't mean — run 
aivay? 

Westcott {rises). Maybe it does sound that way. But 
this is a time when the end justifies the means. Your father 
is unjust — • 

Sunshine. No, not unjust. We have no right to judge 
him. He must have his reasons. 

Wescott. Oh, but that's absurd. He can't have. It's 
just a foolish prejudice some church people get into. When 
he saw you were really in earnest about it, he'd relent quick 
enough and forgive you — 

Sunshine. But papa isn't of that sort. I can't, some- 
how, picture him as ever forgiving anybody. {Walks up 
stage, looking at hack.) 

Westcott. But you, his only daughter, whom he loves 
so much — why. Sunshine, he'd just have to. And then you'd 
have your education — your fighting chance in the world — 
your "dream come true." {Has followed her, now lays 



32 STAR BRIGHT 

hand on shoulder, speaking tenderly.) Sunny, I'd do just 
anything in the world to make you happy. 

Sunshine. But could I be happy — that way? (Walks 
to front again.) 

Westcott. It would be right, Sunny. It is yo{ir duty 
to yourself to get all out of life that you possibly can. It 
is wrong to sacrifice your own future to a whim of — (has 
follozved her to front). 

Sunshine. Hush! (Walks to L.) 

Bright and Smith enter L. 2 E. Smith sij^es up 
Westcott, who eyes him suspiciously. 

Bright. This is my daughter, Sunshine. 

Smith. Ah! (Shakes hands, then turns to Bright.) 
Is she your only child ? 

Bright (very emphatically). Yes! (Turns and exits L. 
1 E. with great dignity,) 

Smith (watching him off). Humph! (Turns to Sun- 
shine.) I am glad to meet you, Miss Bright. Here's my 
card. 

Sunshine. Mr. Smith! Oh, I am so glad you have 
come! (Extends hand again.) 

Smith (aside). Gee! Everybody seems tickled to death 
to see me. (Aloud.) Yes, so am I. So am I. I never got 
such a welcome in my life, Miss Bright. I — (Westcott 
walks uneasily around, keeping an eye on them..) 

SuNSHij^E. And Bird will be so happy to see you. 

Smith. Bird? (Aside,) Even the birds are delighted 
when I come around. 

Sunshine. I'm so glad you didn't wait to write. 
(Archly.) Bird was telling me all about you just a little 
while ago — 

Smith. She was? 

Sunshine. I told her it would be all right. 

Smith. Of course. 

Sunshine. I knew you'd forgive her. 

Smith. Sure! 

Sunshine. She's so much in love with you, you know. 

Smith (mystified). Is she? 



STAR BRIGHT 33 

Sunshine. Can you doubt it? 

Smith. Not if you say so, but — 

Sunshine. All girls get jealous streaks once in awhile — 

Smith. Oh, she's jealous, is she? I didn't know — 

Sunshine. Oh, just a little. But she'll go wild with 
joy when she knows you are here. I'll go tell her. (Starts 
toward house.) 

Smith. Oh, but Miss Bright, I — (Sunshine exits.) 
Goodness! What does that girl mean? And who in the 
dickens is so crazy about me? (Scratches head in perplex- 
ity as Westcott walks slowly up to him.) 

Westcott (offering cigar). Have a cigar? My name's 
Westcott. 

Smith (accepts cigar, lighting it, etc.). Westcott, eh? 
Now where have I seen you before? (Westcott looks con- 
fused.) Here's my card. 

Westcott (zvith card). Smith. Name sounds familiar. 
Looking for board ? 

Smith. Thought I was. But everybody here seems to 
have a different idea of my mission to this vicinity. I seem 
to be the long-looked-for-and-longed-for Something or 
Other to every man, woman and child. I — you see, I sell 
phonographs, and wanted to canvass around here, but — 
(shakes head.) 

Westcott (visibly reliez'ed). Phonographs? 

Smith. Talking machines, you know. Biggest thing I 
ever struck. Why, I — 

Melinda (running down steps, eagerly). I'm just aw- 
fully glad you've come to run the Banner, Mr. Smith. It 
sure did need a new hand at it. 

Smith. Banner? What in Sam Hill — (aside). Wonder 
if she's the bird? 

Melinda. I've writ a lot of poetry and I'll read you 
some as soon as I get time after dinner. I feel certain 
you'll want to use some of it every week. 

Smith (aside). Wonder what for? 

Melinda. 'Tain't everybody, you know, that can write 
poetry. 

Smith (aside). Thank heaven for that. 



34 STAR BRIGHT 

Mrs. B. (at window). Melinda! 

Melinda. Yes'm. (Starts tip steps. At door, aside.) 
If Ethelbert Ferdinand DeLancy could only see my poetry. 
(Exits in house.) 

Smith (staring after her). Mighty kind of her. 

Jake enters L. 1 E. and shambles across to Smith. 

Jake. I ain't got hardly a thing worth taxing, Mr. 
Smith. 

Westcott. I suppose you find a ready sale for — 

Smith (not paying attention to either). This is surely 
a bright family, or else my polish is rubbing off. (Turns 
to men.) Excuse me, gentlemen. I have to send a tele- 
gram. (Starts L.) 

Westcott. More machines? (Smith halts and looks 
at him curiously.) 

Smith. What? — er — (after slight hesitation grasps at 
the idea.) Oh, yes, yes; of course. Big sale for 'em up 
here. Everybody's doing it. Buying, buying, buying. 
(Starts L.) 

Jake (turns to follow him). Speaking of women — 

Smith. Wasn't anybody speaking of women, my friend, 
but— 

Jake. But the taxes — 

Mrs. B. (at window). Doctor Smith! I — (Smith whirls 
to face her,) 

Bright (hurrying in L.). I forgot to tell you, Elder, 
that — (Smith whirls to face him.) 

Melinda (at door R.). Oh, Mr. Smith, about that poetry 
— (Smith whirls to R.) 

Jake (at L.). I shan't pay no more taxes than — (Smith 
whirls to L.) 

Sunshine (at door, pushing Melinda aside). Here he 
is. Bird — right out here. Never mind your hair. Come on. 
(Bright and Jake exit R. Westcott, L. All look 
puzzled.) 

Smith (turning to face R.). Who in the dickens am I? 
(Bird pulls Sunshine back, and Smith, alone, walks 
down J soliloquizing.) Now, you look here, William Walker 



STAR BRIGHT 35 

• 

Smith, if all these various opinions do not lead you to 
forget just who you are yourself, and what you're here 
for ; you Ve been sent to this house to do a big work, and 
youVe got to keep your head, and figure your columns 
straight. (Westcott looks in and draws back L. as he 
catches Smith's eye.) That Westcott's the man, and here's 
just the chap to tell him so when the right time comes. But 
hold your horses. Smith, till you're perfectly sure of his 
game. Don't kick over the pail until you're sure you've 
got all the milk. Then just produce your queen of clubs 
and prove yourself the winner while the bell rings for — 

Melinda {comes to door, ringing hell loudly). Dinner! 
Dinner! 

Sunshine {at window). Come, Mr. Smith, 

Smith {emphatically, starting to house). I'm on the 

job, {Exits.) 

Curtain. 



Act IL 



Scene: Sitting-room at the Bright home. Full stage. 
Table with three chairs near R. 3 E. Practical door at R. 
2 E. Rocker with straight chair near R. front. Archway 
zvith curtains at center back. Lounge diagonally acrass at 
L. Hassock at foot of lounge. Rocker at head. 

At rise, discovered Sunshine and Westcott, playing 
checkers at table. Sunshine L. of table, Westcott R. 
Smith looking over Sunshine's shoidder, watching the 
game. Mrs. B. lies on lounge at L, with Bird sitting on 
hassock beside her, reading book. Bright in rocker at right 
front, reading newspaper. Jake in chair near him., whit- 
tling a stick absently. Time represented, late afternoon. 

Bright {after reading silently a little, lays down paper 
and removes glasses). There doesn't seem to be anything 
in the papers these days but sin and wickedness. The 
world's getting worse and worse every day. I don't know 
what we're coming to. 



■J- 

i 



36 STAR BRIGHT 

Bird. Oh, the world looks good to me, Mr. Bright. It's 
the people that's out of joint. 

Westcott. Your move. Miss Sunshine. 

Sunshine (studying board). I know, but — 

Smith (watching board). He seems to be getting you 
cornered all right. 

Sunshine (after intent pause, moves triumphantly). 
There, now ; jump. Oh, Tm sure everybody's doing the very 
best he knows how. 

Bright. Now that's nonsense. Sunny. Look at the jails 
and State's prisons chock full o' people. Do you mean to 
say they don't know any better than to do the things they 
do? Bosh! 

Westcott. I agree with you, Mr. Bright. We're all a 
bad lot, and the worst of it is that we don't seem to care 
how bad we are. Anyhow, most men would rather be called 
a villain than a fool. (Business of moving.) Crown, please. 

Sunshine. You surely can play checkers, Mr. West- 
cott. 

Westcott. Oh, I know a move or two in more than one 
game. Now, I'll bet a dollar — 

Bright (rising in quick alarm). No, you won't, young 
man. You won't bet a penny in this house. It's against my 
principles — a device of the devil, entirely. 

Westcott (rising). I beg your pardon, Mr. Bright. I 
didn't really mean it, you know. It's just a common 
phrase — 

Bright. Altogether too common nowadays in these 
parts. (Turns away with a grunt. Westcott resumes 
seat.) 

Jake (looking up absently). Speaking of dogs — 

Bright. Nobody's been speaking of dogs, Jake, so far as 
I've heard. I was talking of betting and gambhng, and — 

Jake (hastily). Yes, yes. I — I was thinking of some- 
thing else. 

Bright. Vile worms of the dust that we are, we can't — 

Smith (zualks to him, slapping him on shoulder briskly. 
Bright zvinces). Oh, come now, old man. Just cut that 
stuff out. Of course, if you insist upon being a worm, no 



STAR BRIGHT 37 

man living's going to dispute your perfect right to be one 
if it pleases you, but don't you expect the rest of us fel- 
lows to crawl along in the mud with you, for we're not 
built that way. 

Bright (shocked). You talk like this, sir? You? Youf 
Why, I can't understand. I — (shakes head and turns to 
Jake, bewildered.) Shall we go out to the barn and take a 
look at the stock, Jake? (Smith resumes position behind 
Sunshine.) 

Jake. Eh ? What ? I was thinking about something else. 

Bright. Want to take a look around the barn? 

Jake (rising). Don't care if I do. (Crosses to Smith.) 
When you want to size up my property, young fellow, why, 
ril likely be 'round someplace. But 'tain't worth your 
trouble — 

Smith. Yes, yes; I understand. I don't want to buy 
any — 

Bright. Think you'd like to go 'long, Brother Smith? 

Smith. Who? Me? Why — er — (looks from Bright 
to Westcott, hesitating.) Yes, I believe I will, thank you. 

Sunshine (looks over shoulder). Bird, remember what 
I said. 

Bird. I'm remembering. (Sunshine nods to her em- 
phatically and then indicates Smith with a nod. Bird 
shakes head firmly. Smith intercepts glance and looks 
puzzled. Westcott watches jealously, not understanding. 
At entrance Smith looks back over shoulder, first at Sun- 
shine, then at Bird, shaking head in bewilderment as he 
follows men out door R.) 

Sunshine (reproachfully) . Why didn't you go with him. 
Bird? 

Bird. He didn't ask me. (Sunshine shakes head and 
returns to game.) 

Sunshine. Two jumps and a king for me, Mr. West- 
cott. You're not attending to business. 

Westcott (moving as indicated). It's a bum old game, 
anyway — a kid's plaything. If we had some cards now — 

Sunshine (shocked). Oh, don't mention cards here. 
Papa thinks it's wicked to even think of them. 



38 STAR BRIGHT 

Westcott. Such bosh, you know — all that stuff. I be- 
lieve it's your move. 

Sunshine. Checkers are all right for me, anyway. I 
can get a great deal of amusement out of little things. Be- 
sides, it's like everything else. You have to keep your eyes 
open and attend to your own business, or — 

Westcott. The other fellow gets the prize. 

Sunshine. But there's no prize at stake in our little 
garrie. 

Westcott. Then why not let there be one? 

Sunshine. Dare we? {Looks all around cautiously. 
Bird and Mrs. B. are conversing in dumb show.) Then, 
what? 

Westcott (taking her hand as it lies on the table and 
holding it up.) This, 

Sunshine. I don't — understand. Oh, you mean — you 
surely don't mean — 

Westcott (tenderly). Yes. 

Sunshine. But that wouldn't be worth even a game of 
checkers if you won without the heart. 

Westcott. Then stake that, too. 

Sunshine (draining her hand away). Papa wouldn't 
approve of playing for prizes. Besides — (studies board, 
making quick move) there! I've cornered you. You see 
you have lost the game while disputing about the stake. 

Westcott (rises hastily, brtishing checkers to floor with 
sleeve). True, Miss Sunshine, I have lost the game — 
(aside) of checkers. (Stoops over to pick up checkers, 
Sunshine assisting. Speaks aloud.) It isn't the first time 
a man has surrendered to a woman. (Rises, walking to 
door R. At door turns back.) Wouldn't you like to take a 
stroll over to the postoffice, Miss Sunshine? 

Sunshine (hesitates, troubled over recent conversation). 
Not just now, I think, Mr. Westcott. I have several little 
things to attend to. 

Westcott. Bye-and-bye, perhaps? 

Sunshine. Maybe. (Turns from him and walks toward 
lounge.) 

Westcott (at door, aside). Gee, but she's devilish par- 



STAR BRIGHT 39 

ticular. But I'm not sure it doesn't rather whet a fellow's 
appetite. I'll have her yet, or my name's not Westcott. 
(Smiles significantly.) And that's no joke, either. (Exits 
door R,) 

Sunshine (sits rocker behind lounge). I'm so sorry 
you're not feeling better today, mamma. 

Mrs. B. Oh, I'm all right. Sunny. I don't know that 
I'm feeling any worse than usual. 

Sunshine. Why did you let him go out alone. Bird? 

Bird (piizded). Him? (Suddenly understands.) Oh, 
yes — him. Why, I — I — I thought he was plenty old 
enough to take care of himself. 

Sunshine. Humph ! (Meditatively.) 

Mrs. B. Sunny. 

Sunshine (instantly alert). Yes, mamma. 

Mrs. B. You know that small telescope at the left end 
of the third shelf in my closet — on the east side, you know? 

Sunshine. The leather one, mamma, or the — 

Mrs. B. Yes, the leather. In it you will find an old- 
fashioned white silk dress. I wish you would bring it down 
to me. 

Sunshine (jumping up). Of course. (Starts out C. 
At door turns back.) If he comes back, Bird, be good to 
him. (Bird tosses heady Sunshine shakes finger at her 
warningly. Exits.) 

Mrs. B. Dear Sunny! She just seems to make a busi- 
ness of being happy. I used to be that way, too. I hope 
her spirit will never have to be crushed to the earth as mine 
has been. (Pause.) This Mr. Westcott — do you Hke him. 
Bird? 

Bird. I can't honestly say that I do, Mrs. Bright. I 
don't know why, either, but there's something about him — 
well, I just don't trust him, that's all. 

Mrs. B. There's a familiar look about him sometimes 
that puzzles me. I feel as though there was some unpleas- 
ant memory striiggling to assert itself, but it baffles me. I 
can't remember ever having seen him before. 

Bird. He's a peculiar fellow. 

Mrs. B. I can't feel easy about him, some way. IVe 



\ 



40 STAR BRIGHT 

always been so afraid that something awful would happen 
to Sunny, and now Tm just worried half to death all the 
time if a man even looks at her. 

Bird {turns away and sighs). They're not very trust- 
worthy — any of the bunch. That's my experience. 

Mrs. B. Mr. Bright gets very angry if I speak to him 
about it. He says she's old enough to take care of herself, 
and if she don't, she deserves to go straight to the devil; 
but — I'm so afraid — I can't sleep nights, sometimes. 

Bird. Is she your only child? 

Mrs. B. I fear so — yes, I — 

Melinda enters C, looking at picture. 

Melinda. Ethelbert Ferdinand DeLancy! If that ain't 
a sweet name, then I never heard no poetry. It don't 
seem to me that anybody in the world could see any ro- 
mance in a common, every-day name like Jake! {Looks up, 
slips picture in pocket and looks all around room.) Ain't 
Jake in here ? Thought I saw him moseying along this way 
again. 

Bird {rising). He went out to the barn with Mr. Bright, 
Melinda. Did you want him? {Walks up to her. They 
stand at table.) 

Melinda {confidentially). Well, you see, I ain't never 
felt just sure about that. You see, I'm just crazy about 
another fellow — 

Bird. You are? 

Melinda {nods bashfully, then turns to Mrs. B.). We 
ain't bothering you with our talking, be we, Mrs. Bright? 

Mrs. B. Oh, not at all, 'Lindy. 

Melinda. You see this other fellow's a right swell city 
fellow — 

Bird. Fine feathers don't always make fine birds, Me- 
Hnda. 

Melinda. They help a lot, just the same. And he's so 
pretty, and so smart and romantic looking. I'll show you 
his picture. {Takes photo from pocket, wipes it on apron 
and displays it proudly.) There! Ain't he a daisy? 

Bird {starts in horror). Him? {Aside.) Heavens! It's 



\ 



STAR BRIGHT 41 

Walter himself! (Aloud.) Where did you get that picture, 
Melinda ? 

Melinda (embarrassed, but with dignity). I ain't sup- 
posed to tell that, Miss Denton. I came honestly by it. 

Bird (aside, walking back to lounge). Oh, Walter! 
Walter! What can this mean? 

Melinda (aside, watching Bird in amazement) . Humph! 
Seems to bother her some way. Guess she don't like his 
looks. Well, she don't have to. Bet she's jealous. He's 
a heap better looking than that Smith editor-fellow that 
Sunshine says she's so sticky on. He don't seem to be 
acting so very wild about her. If Ethelbert Ferdinand 
DeLancy wasn't any more romantic looking than that chump 
I think I'd quit laying awake at night to think about him. 
(Exits C.) 

Mrs. B. What's the matter, Bird? 

Bird (dropping to hassock and resting head in hands). 
Oh, nothing. 

Mrs. B. Aren't we women amusing? We laugh and say, 
''Oh, nothing!" when our hearts are fairly breaking, and 
then, when we are happiest, what do we do but cry like 
little babies? (Pause.) Tell me. Bird. 

Bird (raising head, looking C. door). Sunshine's com- 
ing. But there's not a thing to tell, anyway. 

Sunshine enters C, carrying dress. 

Sunshine. Is this it, mamma? 

Mrs. B. (sits up eagerly). Yes, dear. Bring it here 
and — 

Bird. Oh, how dear and quaint. 

Mrs. B. It was my graduating dress. I somehow felt 
I wanted you girls to see it today. My mother made it — 
every stitch. 

Bird. She did? (Examines work.) What exquisite 
hand-work. 

Sunshine (fingering it tenderly). Dear old grandma. 

Mrs. B. (reminiscently). Often she would say, "Honor, 
I am sewing into every seam so many hopes and dreams, 
and such wonderful plans for your happiness. I want you 



42 STAR BRIGHT 

>- 

always to feel that you must live up to this dress, for with 
all the big thoughts I have sewn into it, it must mean much 
to all your life. Every tiny stitch is a thought; every knot, 
a prayer." 

Sunshine. Just like her. 

Bird. How perfectly grand ! 

Mrs. B. Wasn't it? And, girls, often when I would be 
tempted to do this or that, or to complain a little, perhaps, 
of some petty disappointment, I would remember that I 
just had to live up to that dress, and it. was such a help 
to me. 

Bird. It must have been. 

Sunshine. Of course. 

Mrs. B. I was married in it, too, that I might thus carry 
all the hopes and dreams and ideals into my larger, broader 
Hfe. 

Sunshine (sits). Why did you never show it to me be- 
fore, mamma? 

Mrs. B. (smoothing her hair). I don't really know, dear. 
Who can ever say in this queer world just why he does a 
thing or does not do it ? Perhaps the time had not yet come. 
(Bows head in hands.) Sunny, when I die will you see that 
I -am buried in the old gown, that I may show mother how 
hard I tried to live up to it all these years? Maybe I'll find 
some of the old ideals waiting for me over there. Who 
knows ? 

Sunshine. Why, of course I will, mamma, if I am still 
living when that time comes. But you mustn't think .about 
death now, but about life. You have a great deal to do for 
us all yet before you can leave us. 

Bird. And you are such a young woman — in spite of 
this lovely* white hair. 

Mrs. B. Nearly fifty, in years. Bird, and sometimes it 
seems like that many centuries since I was a college girl like 
you. Come up to my room with me and let me show you 
some of my books and souvenirs. They haven't been out 
of my trunk for years. 

Bird. Let me help you. (Assists her to rise and they 
exit C. slozvly.) 



STAR BRIGHT 43 

Mrs. B. {over shoulder at entrance). Put the old gown 
back in its place, Sunny, and then come into my room. 
{Exits.) 

Sunshine. Yes, mamma. {Folds gown thoughtfidly 
and car ef idly. Sighs.. Starts out C. slowly.) 

Smith re-enters R. 

Smith. "Whither away so fast, fair maiden? 
Whither away so fast, I say?" 

Sunshine {turning back). Do I seem in a rush? I 
didn't — {hesitates, then resolutely speaks her mind). Oh, 
Mr. Smith! Bird isn't really angry with you, you know. 

Smith. Isn't she? Glad to hear it, I'm sure. 

Sunshine. No, indeed, she isn't. She's just as fond of 
you as she can be. 

Smith. Delighted, I'm sure. 

Sunshine. She — she — well, you know you really 
shouldn't flirt with other girls. 

Smith. Not guilty! 

Sunshine. And Bird's proud and Hkes to be coaxed. 
Wouldn't you — couldn't you, please coax her a little? 

Smith. Me? Coax? Maybe I could if I tried, but I'm 
not much on the game. 

Sunshine. Please try. I think so much of Bird. Here 
she comes now, and I know you're just dying to be alone 
with her. Now, do your best to make up with her, for 
you've made her so miserable. 

Smith. Didn't mean to, I'm sure. I — I — 

Bird enters C. 

Bird. Am I interrupting something strictly private and 
personal ? 

Smith. Not a bit of it. 

Sunshine {hand on Bird's arm). Now, don't you go 
and get jealous of me, too. I was just going, anyway. 
{Goes C, turns back at door, shaking finger at Smith 
play f idly.) Now you be good, Mr. Smith. {Exits.) 

Bird {watches her off).. That blessed girl! What does 
she mean? 



44 STAR BRIGHT 

Smith. Why, don't you see? She.^ takes me for some 
intimate friend of yours ^ind wants me to coax you to make 
up with 'me for something or other — 

Bird {laughing). That explains it all, then. I knew 
everybody else was wondering who and what you were — 

Smith {brings phonograph in from out R. entrance and 
places it on table, arranging horn, etc., while talking). Yes, 
but I've knocked around the world enough to know how 
to make myself ''all things to all men'' when the occa- 
sion demands. I can be Mr. Bright's preacher, Mrs. 
Bright's doctor, Melinda's Banner-md^n, whatever th.at is, 
and Jake's real estate agent, or something of the sort, and 
still have time enough left to be your lover, if it's neces- 
sary. {She turns away indignantly.) Anyway, Miss Den- 
ton, you just must help me to get next to that fellow who 
calls himself ''Westcott." He means mischief. 

Bird. Yes, I've been sure of that for a long time. Why, 
he must be all of forty years old. What can a man of his 
years mean by hanging around a little girl like Sunny? 

Smith. Right you are. Of his years — and reputation. 
{Stops work with phonograph, looks around cautiously and 
walks to her, hand on arm.) Miss Denton, listen. I came 
here to get the best of him for the sake of humanity, and 
— my employer, who must be nameless for awhile. 

Bird {nodding). I see. 

Smith. But I am going to stay and carry out my plans, 
if it takes till the Day of Judgment, and then some — for 
the sake of that girl. 

Bird. Sunny ? 

Smith. You're a nice girl. Miss Denton, and I like you. 
{She bows thanks, mockingly.) So I don't mind telling 
you, just on the side, that I'm badly hit there — a case of 
craze at first sight. She's just the sweetest girl I ever saw, 
and I'm willing to give my very life, if need be, to save her. 
You'll help me, won't you? 

Bird {extending hand). Count on me. I'm no detective 
— but— 

Bright and Westcott enter R., while their hands are 
still clasped. They break hastily apart. Smith returns to 



STAR BRIGHT 45 

fussing zvith phonograph and cuts in hastily with change of 
subject. 

Smith. As I was saying, this is the very best machine, 
with the most up-to-date records on the market. Like pho- 
nographs ? 

Bird. Love 'em! {Sits chair left of table, Smith stand- 
ing behind table.) 

Westcott. jMusic, eh? Some of the canned stufif. Well, 
dish it out. {Sits chair near right front, Bright resuming 
his rocker.) 

Sunshine leads Mrs. B. in C. 

Sunshine. Well, mamm.a, guess we're just in time to 
be entertained. {Leads her to lounge. Then sits hassock 
at her feet.) 

Smith. I have some tip-top records. Here's a dandy! 
{Puts on record. Any familiar church hymn.) 

SuNiSHiNE {jumps up, runs to C. entrance, calls.) 
'Lindy! 'Lindy! 

Melinda {out C). Coming! 

Sunshine. Come and hear the music. {Returns to 
place.) 

Bright {looks scornfully at phonograph). What you 
going to do with that thing up here, anyway ? 

Smith. I — I — why, I often find it takes the place with 
me of a regular choir, you know. 'Tain't right for the devil 
to have all the fun. We have to resort to modern methods 
to beat the old duck at his own game. 

Melinda enters C.,, claps hands. 

Melinda. Oh, isn't it just too romantic? {Sits behind 
lounge, never moving her eyes from phonograph, backing 
into place.) 

Mrs. B. (looks from one to the other, puzzled. Then to 
Smith). Did you bring that with you? 

Smith. Certainly. I find music a great agent in the 
healing of the sick. 

Melinda. I must just write you some poetry about it, 
sir, for next week's Banner. 



46 STAR BRIGHT 

Smith (removing record). Oh, you needn't bother, my 
dear Miss Bendy. The Banner would be too highly hon- 
ored, I'm sure. (Puts on waltz record.) 

Westcott {instantly alert). Ah! that's something like 
it. {Jumps tip, rims to Bird.) Come on. Miss Denton. I'm 
sure you know this. {They waits around stage.) 

Bright {jumping up in anger and making frantic attempts 
to stop them). Stop! Stop! Stop this miniate, I say! {They 
finally stop.) No such wickedness shall ever take place in 
my house. {Turns to Smith.) And what do you mean, 
sir — you, minister of the gospel, by — 

Smith {searches for record, looking shocked and looking 
very car ef idly through case). Now, how in the world did 
that record get in there? Somebody must have tried to play 
a joke on me. I am shocked — horrified! 

Melinda {jumping up and extending hand as Jake en^ 
ters R.). Why, come right in, Jake. It certainly is good 
to see you again after so long a separation. 

Jake {astounded by this reception). Yes, yes ! I guess so. 

Melinda {still holding hand, speaks pleadingly) . Don't 
say you've forgotten me. 

Jake {protesting) . Why, now, 'Lindy — 

Melinda {looking at him closely). And you are not 
changed a mite. 

Jake {staring at her). No — no — I — • 

Melinda. Why, you don't look scarcely an hour older. 
I should have known you at once anywhere. {Leads him to 
chair at R. of table, takes his hat.) 

Smith. Here's a record I am especially anxious for 
Mrs. Bright to hear. In fact, all the ladies will on joy it. 
It is a dear old song as rendered with the greatest success 
by one of our most talented and famous opera singers, 
{Puts on record of ''Home, Sweet Home,'' ''The Little Old 
Red Shawl My Mother Wore,'' or any old familiar song 
of home and mother, in female voice.) 

Mrs. B. {sits up excitedly). That voice! Oh, that voice! 
(Bright stares at the phonograph. Westcott turns back 
and begins to read, near front, holding newspaper bottom 
side up, however, and his ear turned to listen^ with expres- 



STAR BRIGHT 47 

sion of scorn, wonder and chagrin. Smith covertly zuatches 
them all.) Lem! Lem! Do listen! It is Star — Star, don't 
you hear? Her very own voice! 

Bright. Nonsense! Star is dead. She is dead, dead, 
dead, I tell you. This is just some more of the devil's do- 
ings in the play-acting line. {Turns angrily to Smith.) 
Take the thing out ! Take the thing out, I tell you. And go 
along with it — the whole crowd of you! Move! {He drives 
them all out but Mrs. B., Sunshine and himself.) You've 
done mischief enough for one day. (Sunshine lingers, 
zvalking tozi'ard lounge. He motions her peremptorily away 
and watches till she goes out C. with lowered head.) 

Mrs. B. Oh, Lem! It was Star! She's alive! Alive! 

Bright. More's the pity if she is. But I've said a good 
many times before, and I say it now, and I'm likely to say 
it again if I'm put to it, that she's no child of mine. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Lem! If you only would forgive her! 

Bright {stalking up and doztm angrily). Forgive a mis- 
erable, wicked woman for disgracing my name, almost 
wrecking my home and killing my wife before my eyes? 
Never ! 

Mrs. B. 'Tisn't Star that's kilHng me. 

Bright {pausing beside her). Then I'd like to know 
what — 

Mrs. B. It's you, Lem, and the way you act about it. 
It's just eating my heart out. If I could only see her again; 
could know she was well and prosperous and happy ; could 
know she hadn't forgotten her mother — {zveeps). 

Bright. That's enough of that nonsense. I'm glad I've 
got backbone enough to do my duty. You'd make a whop- 
ping big fool of yourself if I'd let you; but I won't — 
won't — won't — do you hear? She's a low, worthless sinner 
and she shall never darken my door to my dying day! 
{Stalks out R. Just outside entrance, calls.) Sunshine! 
{Re-enters, stalks to C. entrance. Calls.) Sunshine! Where 
is that girl, anyhow? Sunshine! 

Sunshine {oiit C. as from distant room). Yes, papa. 

Bright. Your mother wants you. Come and see to her. 

Sunshine {as before). Yes, papa. 



48 STAR BRIGHT 

Bright (zvalks back to center of room). Not a word to 
the girl, now. Do you understand ? 

Mrs. B. (meekly). Yes. (Bright exits R. She trembles 
with fear of him, then covers face and weeps.) Oh, Star! 
Star ! My own Httle girl ! Where have you been and what 
have you done all these long, long years, and I — your 
mother — not even allowed to hear from you? 

Smith enters C, advances slowly toward her. She hears 
step but does not look up. 

Mrs.^B. Don't come in just yet, darling. 

Smith (stops as if struck, speaks aside). Gee! Sounds 
mighty friendly. (Speaks aloud, lightly.) AH right, I won't 
if you'd rather not see me. 

Mrs. B. (sits up, startled). Oh, the doctor! You fright- 
ened me so. I thought it was Sunshine. 

Smith. You flatter me, Mrs. Bright. Do I really look 
like Miss Sunshine? 

Mrs. B. r didn't see you, doctor. I just — oh, don't try 
to be funny, please, when my heart is aching so. 

Smith (sits lounge beside her). I know it is, Mrs. Bright; 
and that is just why I want to talk to you. I — I — (aside) 
oh, hang it all, how's a fellow going to put it to her? 
(Aloud.) I hate to butt into private affairs, Mrs. Bright, 
even when it's my business to act the goat, but I — I — oh, 
dang it all ! I put that record in the phonograph for a pur- 
pose, Mrs. Bright — in fact, I brought it with me just for 
that. 

Mrs. B. You did? Oh, do you know anything about — 
about herf Is she alive? Oh, do tell me that — only just 
that ! 

Smith. Indeed she is, Mrs. Bright, very much alive, 
and — (she begins to weep) oh, you mustn't break down 
again, Mrs. Bright. You've got to brace up, for I've a snag 
of stuff to unload in your ears. Ain't there some place — 

Mrs. B. (looking around in fear). But Mr. Bright would 
not like — 

Smith. Hang Mr. Bright! (She looks up shocked.) 
Pardon me, Mrs. Bright, but it's such utter nonsense, you 



STAR BRIGHT 49 

know, that a mother should not be allowed to say what she 
pleases about her own daughter, 

Mrs. B. But he's so angry if I — 

Smith (sympathetically) . I know. 

Mrs. B. (astounded). You — 

Smith. Yes, I do know, Mrs. Bright, more than you 
think I do. I can see through a barn door when it's left 
open. And I know, too, what it's all doing for you. You 
have no right to be sick like this. It's only the poison of 
that man's hate that — 

Mrs. B. (looking around again). Oh, do hush! I'm so — 
(Drops shawl.) 

Smith. Yes, your nerves are all in shreds. Can't I see? 
Don't I know? (Picks up shawl. She motions it away. He 
lays it on lounge.) Ain't I the doctor, I'd like to know? 
How can I cure you if — 

Mrs. B. Oh, do you really think you can? 

Smith. Know I can, if you'll be good and let me. Let 
us find some quiet place where I can have a chance to talk 
to you undisturbed for a little. Somebody is sure to come 
in here and interrupt, and I — (after slight hesitation she 
yields and he helps her up.) Come on ; that's right. (Leads 
her carefully out C.) 

Melinda enters R. and watches them exit with wide 
open eyes. 

Melinda (at R.). Humph! (Follows them to center of 
room.) Humph! (Follows to C. entrance and looks off 
after them.) Humph! (Turns hack into room.) He seems 
to be more kind to her than to his own honey bunch. If 
Ethelbert Ferdinand DeLancy should ever act like that to 
some other woman, and_ I should catch him at it, I'd 
never, never, never carry his picture against my fond and 
tender bosom again! Why, I wouldn't put it even in my 
shoe! (Takes out photo, gazing at it.) Oh, Ethelbert! If 
I could just gaze at will into those deep, wonderful eyes — 
wonder how one goes about it to "gaze at will," anyhow? 
If I could only bask in the radiant light of that brilliant 
smile! But I ain't never had no practice at the ''basking" 



50 STAR BRIGHT 

act, and ain't sure how it's done! And this Miss Denton 
wanted to know where I got you! The inquisitiveness of 
some people's boarders ! Wouldn't she smile, though, if she 
knew that I just bought you out of a store when I went 
up to town to take in the sights? People might talk if they 
knew ; but let 'em gab, for all I care ! Ain't I got a right to 
spend my own hard-earned money just as I like! 

Jake enters C, slozvly advances till he finally looks over 
shoulder at picture. 

Melinda. And, oh, Ethelbert ! You are so handsome, so 
fine and romantic looking! It just makes my heart go pitty- 
pat, pitty-pat when I gaze upon your beautiful face! (Jake 
shakes fist at picture. She turns, sees him and screams.) 
O-o-o-o-h! Why, Jake Hoover! Where'd you come from? 

Jake. Barn ! 

Melinda {drops to chair, panting and fanning herself 
with apron). You did give me such a start. (Jake fans her 
with handkerchief.) 

Jake {points to picture on lap). Who's that? 

Melinda {jumps up, hides picture in dress). That's my 
business. Don't you wish you knew, Jake Hoover? I — I — 
I must go and look if my cake ain't burning. {Hurries 
out C.) 

Jake {looking out C). There! She's gone again! And 
that feller's picture with her ! Blast his pretty face ! That's 
why she ain't never had no time for me. If I just had him 
here by the hair of his head, I'd — I'd — why, I'd break him 
all to pieces and bust his brains out with this here chair! 
{Picks up chair and pounds floor with it savagely, panto- 
mimes fighting zvith fists, throwing an adversary, kicking, 

'^ Melinda reappears at C. 

Melinda. Mercy on me, Jake! What are you doing? 
Jake {sheepishly). Oh, nothing. 
Melinda. Looks Hke it. 

Jake. Just practicing up a little to strengthen my muscle. 

Melinda. Well, if that ain't the Hmit! Seems to me 

you'd better practice on something besides Lem Bright's 



STAR BRIGHT 51 

furniture. Come on out to the kitchen and Til give you 
some exercise that'll beat that monkey-shining all to smith- 
ereens 

Bright enters R. with newspaper. 

Jake. Rut I — I — (still holds chair over head and glares 
at floor vindictively. Bright coughs as he sits rocker R. 
and Jake puts chair dozvn hastily.) Just as you say, 'Lindy. 
{Follows her out C. meekly.) 

Sunshine enters R. followed by Westcott. 

Sunshine. A letter for you, papa. {Hands it to him, 
then sits lounge. Westcott sits beside her. Dumb conver- 
sation.) 

Bright. Humph! Wonder who's writing to me. {Looks 
postmark.) From the city, too. A bill, most likely, or a 
circular advertising automobiles and marble palaces on the 
installment plan! {Opens letter.) Pretty writing, anyway. 
{Reads.) ''Dear Mr. Bright" — {rather familiar) : /'Having 
been referred to your home as being a desirable place to 
spend the summer, and being a prima donna'' — {jumps tip 
and looks closely, as to get better light) — yes, it certainly 
does say prima donna — {pronottnces slowly and zvith diffi- 
culty) — now what in the world does that mean? 

Westcott. An opera singer, Mr. Bright. Leading lady 
in grand opera, you know. 

Bright {horrified) . Not an actress f 

Westcott. Well, yes, something of the sort. 

Bright (resumes reading, holding letter at arm's length). 
"A prima donna in the Wagnerian Grand Opera Company, 
just closing its season, I am in search of a nice, quiet spot 
for a rest during my vacation, and write to ask if you have 
any rooms disengaged, and if I may secure accommodations 
for the next two months. Will pay the very highest price 
for suitable room and board." (Pauses, re-reading last sen- 
tence.) Yes, no mistake. That's just what it says, word for 
word. "Am having considerable trouble with my eyes and 
should like to come to Mountdale at once, if arrangements 
can be made. Shall appreciate it if you will telegraph im- 
mediate reply at my expense. Madame Odilla Ormand.'' 



52 STAR BRIGHT 

{Holds letter from him hetzveen thumb and forefinger as if 
poison. ) An actress ! A wicked play-acting, trash-singing, 
painted-up doll, gallivanting around my farm, disgracing 
the pigs and the sheep and the cows, and primy-donnying 
all over the place. Brazen thing! Never! But what did 
she say? {Reads from letter.) ''Will pay the very highest 
price for suitable room and board." It don't seem as if we 
ought to let that slip between our fingers, when we've got 
so much room going to waste, and need the money so much 
worse. But an actress ! What would the new preacher say? 
Though, so far as he goes, he seems inclined to be altogether 
too worldly-minded to suit my ideas. But an actress ! 
Humph ! Grand opera, indeed ! It does beat all what the 
devil calls ''grand." And did she think that ''prima donna'' 
thing would take the curse off with a man like me? {Thinks, 
shaking head.) 

Sunshine {zvho has listened eagerly to letter, speaks to 
Westcott). Oh, wouldn't it be just too lovely! A real, live 
prima donna! And right in our very own house! Don't you 
know, I've never seen the inside of a theatre nor an opera 
house in all my life. 

Westcott. Poor girl. It's just too bad. 

Bright. She shan't come! She shan't! I just won't have 
the air polluted with her wicked atmosphere. {Starts C.) 

Sunshine {rises- and goes to him). But, papa — 

Bright {turning to her). Well? 

Sunshine. We do need the money so bad. You know 
that mortgage — 

Bright. Yes, the money — I know — and the mortgage, 
too. But an actress! A wicked stage woman! Never! 
{Starts C. again. Speaks over shoidder.) Where's your 
mother ? 

Sunshine. On the front porch. 

Bright. I'll just go show her the audacity of such people 
in asking me — me — me — to give shelter to an actress ! 
{Exits C.) 

Westcott {laughingly). He'll wire her to come all right. 

Sunshine {walking back to lounge). Oh, I don't know. 
He hates such things so. 



STAR BRIGHT 53 

Westcott. It's just the way he makes himself think 
about them. 

Sunshine (sits lounge beside hinh). Of course. Thoughts 
are strange things, aren't they ? It seems as though it's never 
the things that happen to you that matter so much as it is 
the way you look at them. 

Westcott. I never thought of that especially, but — 

Sunshine. Oh, I have. I've been alone so much, you 
see, until this summer, that I've just had to think things 
out for myself. And I often wonder if everything isn't re- 
ally just what you think it is; if the ideal within you isn't 
the most real part of your life ; if thoughts aren't the only 
real things there are. 

Westcott. Of course. And so, you see, there's nothing 
really wrong at all about your slipping out and going to 
college as I proposed. If you didn't persist in thinking so — 

Sunshine. Why, that's so, isn't it? I hadn't thought of 
that. 

Westcott. Of course it is. And if you deliberately re- 
fuse to take your chance when it's ofifered to you, it'll only 
be your own fault if — 

Sunshine {jumping up eagerly). Oh, I see! I see! It's 
the white rose bending down to me. If I don't pick it, it 
will fly up again, of course. 

Bird comes to C, entrance, watches and listens. 

Westcott (following her). Then you will — you really 
will? 

Sunshine. Oh, yes! yes. (Extends hands to him.) 
And I thank you so much — oh, so much ! 

Westcott. Nonsense. You know I'd give the world to 
make you happy. 

Sunshine. I always knew there was a big nameless 
Something somewhere that would take care of me so long 
as I did the right thing. I'm always taken care of. I've 
always got to be. 

Westcott. Yes, yes; of course. (Turns away to R., 
speaks aside.) When she talks like that, she almost makes 
me turn into a quitter. Brace up, Westcott, and take your 



54 STAR BRIGHT 

chance. Don't be a baby at this late day. (Turns to her, 
speaks aloud.) We mustn't lose any time. We must hurry 

^* (Stage gradually grows dark.) 

Sunshine. When? 

Westcott. Tonight. At once. 

Sunshine. So soon? Well, I must get my things. I — 
I — wait for me just outside, Mr.— Mr. — 

Westcott (reproachfidly) . You promised to call me — 

Sunshine. Yes, I know — Arthur — ^but it doesn't seem 
to come easy and natural, somehow. Something seems to 
tell me — 

Westcott. Hurry! If your father should suspect — 

Sunshine. Yes, yes. I won't be a minute. (Rushes 
out C, knocks against Bird.) Excuse me. Bird, I — I — 

Bird. You seem in a hurry. Sunny. 

Sunshine. Yes, yes. That is, a little, I guess, I — I — 
(exits embarrassed.) 

Bird (advancing into room, speaks sharply). And you, 
too, Mr. Westcott. You seem greatly hurried — and wor- 
ried a little, maybe. What's wrong? 

Westcott (savagely). Nothing! (Aside at R.) Does 
that young cat suspect anything? (Exits, Bird zvatching, 
and he eying her as closely.) 

Bird. Something's going to happen; that's sure. Wish 
I could have heard it all. I do wish Mr. Smith — 

Smith enters C. 

Smith. Who wishes Mr. Smith? 

Bird (meets him center). Oh, I'm so glad you have 
come ! 

Smith. Good. It's so sweet to be appreciated. I just 
met Miss Sunshine hurrying to her room and she told me 
you were in here, and for me to come in and be real good 
to you, for she could see you were just breaking your heart 
about me. 

Bird. Well, let her think so. 

Smith (walking to lounge). Sure. If she could only 
make me think so. 



STAR BRIGHT 55 

Bird. Don't be silly. You can't flirt worth a cent. 

Smith {drops to lounge as though fainting). Crushed! 

Bird {sits by him). And do listen. Fve something very 
serious to say to you. 

Smith {all attention at once). Really? I thought this 
was serious enough. 

Bird. Yes. I just happened in on Mr. Westcott and 
Sunshine as they parted here a moment ago. He was urg- 
ing her to do something, and she finally consented. All I 
could hear positively was, "I will/' and ''Tonight." Then 
she hurried out. 

Smith {rising excitedly). That's why she was running 
so fast when she passed me. 

Bird. I've no idea what it was all about, of course ; but 
I don't feel easy about it. {Rising.) I can't think every- 
thing is just right when — 

Smith {bitterly). Nothing is ever just right where that 
scoundrel is. He's surely plotting deviltry of some kind 
against that blessed little girl, and we've got to stop him. 

Bird. But how? 

Smith. Watch him. 

Bird. But whatever is done must be done quickly. 

Smith. Of course. 

Bird. See how dark it's getting. 

Smith, ^^'e won't light the lamp. We'll just watch — 
hush! {Hide by lounge.) 

Sunshine enters cautiously C. Carries small valise. 

Sunshine. Nobody here? All safe so far. Oh, when 
I have proven myself worthy, papa will surely forgive me 
for snatching my fighting chance when it came my way. 
{Turns, throws kiss back toward C.) Good-bye, mamma 
darling. I did not dare to kiss your face for fear you 
might suspect something; but this old shawl, almost a part 
of you — {takes shazvl from lounge, kisses it and holds to 
her). 

Bird {coming out of the shadow). Sunny! (Sunshine 
screams.) What does this mean? 



56 STAR BRIGHT 

Sunshine (tremblingly). I — I — why, nothing, only — 
o-o-o-h! Mr. Smith, are you here, too? Let me go. I — I — 

Smith. No, Miss Sunshine, sit down. We cannot and 
will not let you go to join that scoundrel until we know — 

Bright enters C. with Mrs. B. on arm. 

Bright. What is all this? We heard screaming. Sun- 
shine, is that you ? Where were you going with that satchel ? 
J^BiRD leads Mrs. B. to lounge.) 

Sunshine. Just — to town. 

Bright. Town? With whom? 

Sunshine (looks helplessly around room. Then speaks 
bravely.) Mr. Westcott. 

Bright. Westcott? The villain! (Stalks around room, 
looking for him.) 

Sunshine (catches him by arm). No, no, papa. Listen. 
He was only going to take me to his sister in Philadelphia, 
where I was going to get ready for — for — 

Bright. Out with it! 

Sunshine. College. 

Bright (sarcastically). A likely' story. Girls usually 
start for college when they run away from home with old 
men ! Do you think I'm a fool that I can't see the vile thing 
you were planning to — 

Mrs. B. Lemuel! 

Bright. Let^me alone, woman. Keep your nose out. I 
will say what I think. I will let her know what a disgrace 
she has made herself — 

Sunshine (sinks on hassock). No, no! 

Smith. Mr. Bright, you are unjust. I know Westcott, 
and the worthless thing he is, so I've not the slightest doubt 
that he had plotted your daughter's ruin. It's a habit of his. 
But I will stake my life that she herself was as pure in 
thought and purpose as an angel. 

Bright. Looks like it! 

Bird. Mr. Bright, I know it. I overheard enough of his 
argument to — 

Westcott enters R., speaking cautiously: 

Westcott. Sunshine, are you coming? 



STAR BRIGHT 57 

Lights suddenly turned on as Melinda enters C. with 
lighted lamp. 

Melinda. Don't you folks want some light? 

Bright {grabbing Westcott by collar). You scoundrel! 
You villain! (Mrs. B. screams,) Sunshine, look after your 
mother. {Leads Westcott aside at R, and talk in vehe- 
ment dumb show. Sunshine sits lounge and rubs Mrs. 
B.'s hands,) 

Bird {aside to Smith). Let us leave them alone. {He 
bows assent and follows her out C, quietly,) 

Mrs. B. Oh, Sunny! Sunny! What will your father do 
about this? 

Sunshine. Never mind, mamma. He can't — 

Bright {dragging Westcott across to them). Come 
right along, sir ! No hanging back ! Tve had one girl ruined 
by an infernal puppy, but it's not going to happen again in 
this family! You've gone so far and you're going the rest. 
Two weeks from today you shall marry her. (Sunshine 
jumps up J facing them.) 

Mrs. B. {rising in alarm), Lemuel! 

Sunshine. Oh, papa, papa! Not that! That old man — 
not that! 

Westcott. But, Mr. Bright, listen. I didn't — 

Bright. Not a word from either of you! I know my 
own gate when I drive up against it, and I mean just what 
I say! You shall marry her! 

(Westcott hangs head and turns away R. Mrs. B. falls 
back on lounge, while Sunshine kneels beside her, burying 
her face on her shoulder and sobbing audibly. Bright holds 
commanding post for quick — ) 

Curtain. 



r 



58 STAR BRIGHT 



Act III. 

Scene: Room of Madame Ormand, two weeks later. 
Bed at upper right of stage. If desired a folding bed may 
be substituted for this, same being placed where lounge now 
stands, and lounge brought across to replace bed and fur- 
nish seat in this position. Fireplace near right front. Above 
it, a picture, face to wall. In front of it a rocker, facing fire. 
Table at center front, with books, magazines, etc. Dressing- 
table at left, with long mirror. Chair in front of it. Lounge 
across back from center door to door left. Rocker in front 
of it. Hall-tree at right, between bed and door C. Pennants 
and girlish decorations and souvenirs everywhere at taste 
of the producer. Room is set in j, with wainscot backing 
in 5, to represent hall. Practical doors at C, opening into 
hall, and at L., near back, opening into Sunshine''s room. 

At rise discovered Sunshine, dusting table and arrang- 
ing books, etc. Mrs. B. standing in door at L., watchng her 
and svirveying room, 

Mrs. B. I do hope the lady will be pleased. 

Sunshine. Why, mamma, Fm sure she will. It looks 
so cozy. But — {hesitates) 

Mrs. B. {walks to her). Yes, dear; what is it? 

Sunshine. Isn't it strange she should come today ? And 
— do you think she'll get here before — ^before — {drops head 
and turns away). 

Mrs. B. {sits lounge as if overcome). Come here. Sunny. 
(Sunshine walks to her.) Tell me all about it, dear. 

Sunshine. Oh, mamma! What does papa mean by 
forcing this terrible marriage? I simply cannot understand 
it all. Surely he — my own father — cannot think I could 
possibly be — a bad girl? 

Mrs. B. He doesn't understand you, dear. He doesn't 
understand anybody who is not just exactly like himself. 
He has been getting more and more bitter against every- 
thing bright and joyous ever since — since — 



STAR BRIGHT 59 

Sunshine. Since what, mamma? What have I ever 
done to make him bitter? 

Mrs. B. Not you, Sunny. Oh, never you. 

Sunshine. Then who? What? 

Mrs. B. He forbade me to tell you, dear, but I see I 
must. Your sister Star — you remember her? 

Sunshine. Oh, yes, indeed. She was so lovely. How 
could I forget? 

Mrs. B. She had a wonderful voice and seemed to know 
just how to use it, so she was always wild to have it trained 
for the stage. It was her one dream by day and night. I 
think she inherited it from me, for I was stage-struck, too, 
in my young days. I suppose most girls have a little of it. 

Sunshine. Well, I never was stage-struck, mamma, but 
I've always been college-struck, you know ; so I can under- 
stand how Star felt. Did she die? 

Mrs. B. No, no, dear, listen. You know how your father 
feels about the stage, and dancing, and all that, so. you can 
imagine how he raved whenever she dared even to hint of 
it, so she just naturally seemed to give it up. Then we sent 
her to college. She was only sixteen — just your age now. 
Sunny, but she had finished High School and was very 
bright for her age. At college she met an actor — an Arthur 
Pulver. He learned of her ambition and they often met 
clandestinely, as we learned afterward, till, promising to 
launch her properly on the stage, he lured her — well, she 
left the college with him and — 

Sunshine. Then she didn't die? 

Mrs. B. We never knew. Your father raved like a 
madman when he heard the news, and disowned her, then 
and there. He forbade anyone's mentioning her name and 
all these years has declared that you were his only child. 

Sunshine. I know. 

Mrs. B. I've always kept the room just as she left it, 
Sunny — right here so close to yours — and I just couldn't 
destroy her picture as he ordered me — it was her gradu- 
ating picture — so I turned it to the wall. 

Sunshine (springing up). Oh, is that Star's picture? 
I've always wondered. May I look? (Runs eagerly to pic- 



60 STAR BRIGHT 

ture, Mrs. B. following. They stand silently, arms about 
one another, gazing at the picture with much emotion.) 

Mrs. B. {tenderly turning picture again to the wall). 
Sunny, all this is what has made an invalid of me. {Sits 
rocker fronting fireplace.) The conflict between love for my 
child and duty to 'my husband. It's killing me by inches. 
Do you wonder now what turned my hair to snow? 

Sunshine {behind mother s chair, smoothing hair and 
gazing thoughtfidly in fire). So that's why papa hates col- 
leges so. 

Mrs. B. Yes ; he has always sworn that you should never 
leave his roof until he saw you safely married. He believes 
that Star was ruined, and now that you — {draws Sun- 
shine's head down to hers). Oh, Sunny! Sunny! If I could 
only save you from this ! 

Sunshine. There, there, mamma. Never you mind. 

ni 

Melinda enters C, followed by Star. 

Melinda. This is the room, Mrs. — er — Madame, and 
right here's Mrs. Bright now, and Sunshine, too. 

Mrs. B. {advancing with Sunshine to meet her). And 
this is Madame Ormand, of course. I hope we can make it 
very pleasant for you here. {Exit Melinda^ C.) 

Star {visibly moved as they shake hands). I'm sure it 
will be most charming. I get so little time for the country 
in my busy life. And this is your daughter. Miss — {ex- 
tends hand to Sunshine). 

Sunshine. Just Sunshine, please, Madame. 

Star {sweetly). Could a ray of sunshine ''by any other 
name" seem quite so bright? 

Mrs. B. {hastily, to turn attention from Sunshine's, ^^'i- 
dent sadness). This is the only room we have left, Madame 
Ormand. We hope you will like it. To tell you the truth, 
we hesitated for some time about putting a stranger into it. 
It has not been used before for twelve years. 

Star {looking around room, endeavoring to conceal any- 
thing but casual interest). So long? A cherished guest- 
room, perhaps? {Walks R., inspecting fireplace.) 

Mrs. B. {warmly). Cherished, yes! — ^but — not exactly — 



STAR BRIGHT 61 

{struggles to choke back emotion, backing toward dressing- 
table. Sunshine zvalks back of table, watching Star.) 
Well, we hope you will like it. 

Star {looking all around appreciatively). I am sure I 
shall. It is very dainty and sweet. {Begins to remove veil, 
hat, gloves, etc.) 

Sunshine {goes door L.). This door opens into my 
room, Madame Ormand. But it will not annoy you any 
after today. I — I — well, you see, I won't be here any 
longer. 

Star {front of bed, pauses while taking pin from hat). 
Oh, you are going on your vacation, too ? 

Sunshine. No — no — not a vacation, you know. I — 
1 — the truth is, I — you tell her, mamma. {Sits lounge, look- 
ing dozvn). 

Mrs. B. {walks tozvard Sunshine). My daughter is go- 
ing to be married today, Madame Ormand. You are just 
in time to witness the ceremony. 

Star. Oh, how lovely ! I adore weddings — real ones. 
And I do hope this is going to be a real one, and that you 
will be very, very happy. 

Sunshine {rising). I thank you so much, Madame Or- 
mand. I — am sure — I shall. {Clings to Mrs. B. a moment, 
then turns to Star bravely.) We are always happy when 
we do what is right, are we not? 

Star {removing cloak, smoothing it out, etc.). We ought 
to be, hadn't we? — when we are sure we are right. {Hangs 
cloak on hall-tree.) 

Mrs. B. Pardon me, but I must be seeing to your things, 
you know, Sunny. And Madame Ormand will want to rest. 
{Walks door L.) 

Star {goes to Sunshine, putting arm around her). Oh, 
do let her stay with me till we get acquainted, Mrs. Bright. 
I do so love the young — especially brides. (Sunshine drops 
head at word.) 

Mrs. B. If you are sure she won't disturb you — 

Star {drazving her closer). How ridiculous! (Mrs. B. 
exits L. Star smiles and bozvs szveetly as she leaves.) 



62 STAR BRIGHT 

Thank you so much. {To Sunshine, as she releases her.) 
We're going to be the best of friends, aren't we? 

Sunshine. It's so sweet of you to say so. (Star busies 
herself putting her gloves, veil, etc., in drawer of dresser. 
Sunshine sits lounge watching. After a pause.) But can 
we ever be sure we are doing exactly right ? 

Star {at dresser, does not turn). Of course. Always. 

Sunshine. How ? When a girl is very young, you 
know, she must do as her father and mother say — 

Star {at dresser, taking dozvn hair). And how about 
that other prompter — the ''still, small voice" of the real self 
within, that some call conscience and others call the very 
soul itself? Does it not impel us always to the right course? 

Sunshine. I — I — I'm afraid not. Not when older 
people say so differently. {Rises, crosses to Star.) What 
lovely hair you have. Won't you let me comb it for you? 
(Star sits front of mirror. Sunshine combs hair.) We 
must always do just what is right, you know. 

Star. And if it hurts? 

Sunshine. Why, then, we must just go and play it 
doesn't. If we make beheve it's easy, maybe it won't be so 
hard after awhile. But — my! how serious we are getting 
for our first talk together ! 

Star. And on your wedding day, too. 

Sunshine. Oh, yes, yes. Why, I was forgetting, wasn't 
I? Do I pull? 

Star. Not a bit. 

Sunshine. It looks lovely. There. How's that? {Ar- 
ranging hair on head.) 

Star {studying reflection in glass). Fine. Wherever did 
you learn? Don't you know you haven't told me a single 
word about your lover? 

Sunshine. My lover? Why — oh, yes. I — I— do you 
mind if I show you his picture? 

Star. Why, I'll be charmed to see it, dear. 

Sunshine. Wait till I get another pin in, so this won't 
come down. There. {Goes door L., opens it.) Mamma, 
hand me that picture of Mr. — Arthur, please — yes, over on 
the machine — that's it — thank you. {Closes door, returns 



STAR BRIGHT 63 

to Star, looing at picture with expression of fear while 
crossing.) Here he is, Madame Ormand. (Hands picture 
to Star, goes lounge to pick up handkerchief.) 

Star {studying picture, aside). Yes, Smith was right. It 
is Arthur. I felt sure there was no chance for a mistake. 
(Sunshine returns.) Child, do you love him? This man 
you are to marry ? 

Sunshine. Love him? Oh, no. Why, I never thought 
of doing that. He's more than twice as old as I am. Are 
your eyes very bad? 

Star {aside). Thank heaven for that! {Aloud.) Not 
seriously so, I hope. I only thought best to wear these 
glasses during the summer. But why — if you do not love 
— but here I am intruding into what is none of my business. 
You must pardon me. I am always so interested in young 
girls and their romances. (Rises.) I must unpack my little 
grip. (Goes bed, opens grip, takes out toilet articles, hand- 
kerchiefs, etc.) 

Sunshine (following). Romances? Oh, yes. But — let's 
talk about something else. Bird Denton says she knows you 
real well. 

Star. Yes, I met Miss Denton at the seaside two years 
ago, and weVe been excellent friends ever since. (Takes 
photograph from grip.) My latest photo. Do you like it? 
(Sunshine takes photo, looking admiringly at it.) She 
seems very much in love just now. (Busy unpacking.) I 
have never met her lover. Have you? 

Sunshine (placing photo on dressing-table). Isn't it 
lovely? So like you. 

Star (over shoidder). But we were speaking of Miss 
Denton's lover. Have you met him? 

Sunshine (^^7/ at dresser). Yes. He's here now. 

Star (turning to face her). He is? (Sunshine nods.) 
She didn't tell me that. (Turns back to unpacking.) Do 
you like him? 

Sunshine (fingering things on dresser). Very much. 
He's a real man. He's — (turns, crosses to Star). But 
would you mind talking about something else? (Looks 
around in search of subject.) I hope you will like your room. 



64 STAR BRIGHT 

(Star goes to dresser with tilings from grip, begins to put 
them azvay in drazvers. Sunshine seats herself on foot of 
bed, watching.) It was very hard for mamma to see any- 
one using it. Yon see, I had a sister once — and when she 
left, mamma kept her room always just as it was. 

Star (at dresser, busy. After pause). I see. Did she 
die? 

Sunshine. No — that is, I don't know. You see, they 
never talk of her. I never knew a thing about what hap- 
pened to her until today, and then — only a word. 

Star {after another busy pause). I understand. Poor 
thing! (Closes drawers, turning to face Sunshine, resting 
hands on table, L.) I wonder what became of her. 

Sunshine. I often wonder, too. Sometimes I lie awake 
very late at night wondering and wondering.' I was a mere 
baby when she left, but I loved her very much, and — I've 
been lonely ever since; while mamma — well, you see for 
yourself what an invalid it has made of her. 

Star (zvalks to rocker by fireplace, leaning on back and 
looking in fire). And your father? 

Sunshine. Is very bitter. He swore she should never 
darken his doors again. There! (Jumping up.) He has 
forbidden me to mention this, even to him and mamma, and 
here I am telling it all to a stranger. 

Star (^z^^ rocker). Oh, don't think of me as a stranger. 
Don't you see I have come here to be one of the family? 

Sunshine (sits arm of chair). That's so sweet of you. 
I don't see why I have told you so much. It's not like me 
to talk of family affairs, but you seemed to draw it out of 
me, somehow. (Rises, reaching to touch picture above man- 
tel.) This was her picture, taken when she graduated from 
High School. When she left, papa ordered mamma to 
destroy it, but she — well, she just couldn't, somehow. 
Mothers are queer about things like that, you know, aren't 
they? 

Star (in choked voice). Delightfully so, God bless them. 
That's why God made mothers out of them. 

Sunshine. So she compromised by turning the face to 
the wall. Nobody else could see it, you know ; but she 



STAR BRIGHT 65 

always knew it was there, just as Tm sure the dear memory 
of my sister has been Hving in her big heart, although she 
had to keep it covered up for so long where not even I 
could see. But there I go again ! Let's talk about something 
else. {Leans against foot of bed, Star in rocker.) It must 
be fine to be an actress. 

Star. Yes, of course — when one is strong enough. But 
one has to live much and feel deeply before one can be a 
successful actress ; must often singe one's own wings, in 
order to be able to portray the fire. Genius costs its full 
price. It's a hard life, dear. 

Mrs. B. (comes door L.). Sunshine. (Sunshine turns. 
Star ris^s, turns.) 

Sunshine. Oh, mamma, is it time? 

Mrs. B. Past. {Exits, leaving door open.) 

Sunshine. I must go and dress, I suppose. I'll be glad 
when it's all over. {Walks L.) It must be for the best, of 
course, or it could never come to me — but I've no idea of 
what lies ahead. {At door turns hack to face Star, who has 
followed her.) Still, they say when we can't see ahead of 
us, it's only because we are coming to a corner. 

Star. We must always hope so, dear. {Exit Sunshine, 
closing door.) Oh, I am so glad I came in time. {Walks 
to dresser.) If I had been a day too late — ! What a change 
these glasses do make in me {at mirror) ! It's no wonder 
that nobody has recognized me so far! {Walks hack 
to fireplace.) I was afraid of father's sharp eyes, but 
he seemed too much taken up with his miserable wedding 
to give me more than a passing glance and a nod. And this 
dear old picture ! {Turns it around, zuipes dust from it with 
handkerchief and either sings or repeats:) 

'^There's a name that's never spoken, 
There's a mother's heart that's broken. 
There is just another missing in the old home, that is all ; 
There is still a memory living. 
And a father unforgiving, 
And a picture with its face turned toward the wall." 
{Bows head on mantel and weeps.) If I can only escape 



66 STAR BRIGHT 

discovery until — {Loud knocking at door C, She raises head 
quickly J goes center.) Come in. 

Smith enters C.j carrying heavy suitcases. 

Smith. Your trunks haven't arrived yet, Madame, but 
I've brought up your suitcases, and — {looks around) oho! 
Alone ? 

Star. As you see. Put them under the bed, please. 
I'm too tired to think of unpacking till I get my mind un- 
loaded. 

Smith {after placing suitcases). Well, what do you 
think of the situation? Am I on the right track? 

Star. Unquestionably. I saw his photo, and — {walks 
fireplace, looking fire). Well, I've been thanking heaven 
ever since that I was in time. I started just as soon as I 
received your wire, but the trains didn't move half fast 
enough to suit me. Are all the arrangements completed? 

Smith {back of chair, leaning on it, looking at her). 
Everything. The bombs are all set, ready to light the fuse. 
Then hiss — sizz-boom! Won't things blow sky-high, and 
won't there be some explosion around these parts, eh? 
Gee! Little Willie's having the time of his life. Me for the 
fireworks. 

Star. Mr. Smith, I feel that I can never sufficiently re- 
pay you for your services in this matter. 

Smith. Oh, don't mention it. {Walks table, fingering 
things. ) 

Star. But I must. Can't you imagine what it means 
to me? My own little baby sister, and — and — {breaks down, 
sobbing). 

Smith {left of table, both hands on it. Gravely). Think 
what it might also mean to me, Madame Ormand ! 

Star {looking up quickly). To you? 

Smith. Yes — even me. Why, I'd give my very life to 
save that little girl from trouble. 

Star {walks to table, stands R.). Do you mean that you 
are in love with my sister, Mr. Smith? 

Smith. Well, now, I'm not just sure about that. I 
know I've lost my head, and gone perfectly daffy about 



STAR BRIGHT 67 

that little curl at the back of her neck. I know I'd rather 
have one glance from her eye than to be the Sultan of 
Borneo with all his harem at my beck and call. I know 
I moon under her window at all hours of the night, writing 
sonnets to a button from her shoe. I know I've woke my- 
self up talking about her in my sleep. I know Fd lie down 
in the mud and let her turn the hose on me all day long if 
it would please her to do that way to a fellow, but — I don't 
know whether Tm exactly in love with her or not. You 
see, I've never had any feelings like this about any other 
girl, and — (pauses, shaking head). 

Star (laughs). I guess you have all the symptoms, Mr. 
Smith. As for Sunshine, of course she's far too young 
yet — 

Smith. Of course. I wouldn't have her even think of 
such a thing now. 

Star. That's more sensible than most lovers might be, 
I'm sure; and some day — after w^e have seen her. through 
college — I hope — 

Smith. Oh, I say. Do you really mean that? 

Star (meets him behind table, extending hand). Here's 
my hand on it. 

Smith (pressing hand to his lips). Gee! But that makes 
a fellow feel good 'way down to his boots ! I — 

(Knock at door C. They hastily separate, Smith grab- 
bing a magazine and walking dozvn left front, busily read- 
ing it, upside dozun. Star goes to door and opens it.) 

Star. Ah! Come right in, Miss Denton. 

Bird enters, followed by Smythe. 

Bird. And may I bring Mr. Smythe in to see you, 
Madame Ormand? He just came, you know, and I've 
always been so anxious for you to meet him. 

Star (extending hand to him). Delighted, I'm sure. 
I've heard so much about you, Mr. Smythe. This girl has 
raved and raved — 

Bird (lays finger on Star's lip). Don't. You mustn't 
let him find out how silly I am. Shake hands with Mr. 
Smith, too. 



68 STAR BRIGHT 

'Smith (turning at his name and extending hand to 
Smythe). Glad to know you. I've been a sort of an under- 
study to you ever since I came here, Mr. Smythe. (Star 
and Bird converse dumbly back of table. The men L. 
front.) 

Smythe {haughtily staring at him). Indeed! I don't 
understand. 

Smith. Yes, Fve been getting so much practice as Miss 
Denton's lover that I believe I could almost do it automat- 
ically, now. (Bird, uneasy, goes to mirror and begins to 
fuss with hair, etc.) 

Smythe (jealously, with a quick look at Bird). Why — 
er — I don't think I quite understand — yet. 

Smith (puzded). No? Hasn't Miss Denton told you? 
(Shakes finger at her playfully). Naughty girl. (She 
frowns at him over shoulder, he goes on more puzzled than 
ever). Well, I'll leave it for her to explain. (Starts C.) 
I have too much on my hands just now — 

Smythe (sarcastically). 'More understudying? 

Smith. Oh, not exactly. 

Smythe. More important matters, perhaps — now that 
my arrival has released you from substitute duty. 

Smith. Much more important, Mr. Smythe, I assure 
you, than trying to fill any other man's shoes. (At door 
C, over shoulder.) I didn't give anything away, did I, Miss 
Denton ? 

Bird (in exasperated resignation) . Aren't you horrid! 

Star. One moment, Mr. Smith. (Follows him out C, 
closing door.) 

Bird (turning from mirror). What in the world did you 
treat Mr. Smith like that for? 

Smythe (walks R. of table). What in the world did the 
blooming idiot mean? Evidently he had been used to 'far 
different treatment from you.. (Turns to face fire.) 

Bird. Oh, Walter, don't! He has been here on a se- 
cret mission, doing some detective work for Madame Or- 
mand. Miss Bright — Sunshine, you know — knowing I had 
a lover named Smythe, saw his card the day he came, and 
his initials being the same as yours, quite naturally con- 



STAR BRIGHT 69 

clu3ed that he was the man. We let her continue to beUeve 
so because it seemed the simplest way of concealing his 
real identity. Besides, I was able to help him a little, and 
the pains Sunshine took to leave us alone was as helpful 
sometimes as it was amusing. 

Smythe (has kept head down, facing fire. Now turns 
and faces her). And the flirtation — 

Bird. Can't you take my word that there was no flirta- 
tion? Walter, I — (hesitates, then remembers her own griev- 
ance) but, speaking of that sort of thing, where did Me- 
Hnda Bendy get your picture? 

Smythe. What picture? And who in the dickens is 
Melinda Bendy? (Walks up.) 

Bird (sarcastically). Yes, that sounds innocent enough, 
but— 

Melinda enters hurriedly C. without knocking. 

Melinda. Madame Ormand, Mr. Bright wants to know 
— well, I swan! (Stares at Smythe.) Ethelbert Ferdi- 
nand DeLancy, as I live! (Takes picture from dress and 
walks all around him, sizing him up and comparing him 
with picture. He turns to face her.) Now just stand still 
a minute, won't you, and let me get a good look at you? 

Smythe (indignantly). Now, Bird, I don't — 

Melinda. It's sure you all right, ain't it now ? But say, 
Ethelbert, I just must let you know that your picture flat- 
ters you like the mischief. Where is them soulful eyes, 
that romantic smile, that — 

Smythe. My name's Smythe, madam. 

Melinda. Eh? 

Smythe. What picture do you mean? 

Melinda. This! (Hands it to him.) 

Bird (looks over his shoulder). A perfect picture of you, 
Walter.' Maybe it does flatter you a little. 

Melinda. Walter ? No !— Ethelbert ! 

Smythe (very haughtily). May I ask where you pro- 
cured this? 

Melinda. Why, sure! You can ask anything you want 
to, for all of me? 



70 STAR BRIGHT 

Smythe. Then where? 

Melinda {in innocent surprise). Why, I don't have to 
answer, do I? 

Smythe. I think, for the sake of my reputation, that I 
have a right to insist upon an answer. 

Bird. I, too, Mehnda. 

Melinda (looking from one to another a minute). Oho! 
I see! He's your beau, ain't he? Well, then, I don't mind 
telling you, seeing it's just as 'tis, and can't be any 'tiser, 
that I bought the plagued thing in a ten-cent store — paid 
a hull dime for it, too. {Sits on bed, disgusted.) 

Smythe {examining it closely). I see. It's one I had 
taken to advertise the Sophomore play. Bird. All the prom- 
inent performers were photographed in costume and put 
up for sale. Don't you remember? And the part I took, 
you know, was the Englishman, Ethelbert Ferdinand De- 
Lancy. 

Bird. I see. 

Melinda {rising indignantly). Then you ain't really 
Ethelbert at all ? 

Smythe. That's what I said. 

Melinda. You ain't never really been Ethelbert in all 
your life? 

Smythe. No, just Smythe, always. Walter Williams 
Smythe. 

Melinda {in disgust). Humph! Can any male man 
ever be believed? Oh, the soulful eyes! The fascinating 
smile ! The romantic brow ! Life is a cruel, cruel deception. 
{Weeps in apron.) 

Bird. Never mind, Melinda. There's Jake, you know. 

Melinda {taking apron from eyes, speaking brightly)- 
Ain't it so? There's always Jake. He ain't so terribly ro- 
mantic, but I'll bet he'll wear like alpaca. But oh — oh — 
oh — my heart may be all right, but something inside me's 
badly out o' kilter. {Sits in rocker by fire, weeps.) 

Smythe {looks at her in disgust, then turns to Bird). 
I must get out and have a smoke. {Starts C.) 

Bird. And I must help Sunshine with her dressing. 
It's almost time for the ceremony now. (Starts L.) 



STAR BRIGHT 71 

Smythe (at center-back). Are you satisfied now? 

Bird. Yes. Are you? 

Smythe (coldly). I'll have to think about it, Bird. This 
upstart Smith doesn't look any too good to me. (Bird looks 
at him fixedly a minute, then turns, walks indignantly out 
L., slamming door behind her. He watches her off, hand on 
door.) No, this Smith doesn't look a bit good to me. 
(Exits.) 

Melinda. What a cruel, cruel world! (Rises, picks 
picture from floor and, holding at arm's length, shakes fist 
at it.) You're nothing but an old hypocrite; that's what 
you are — just a vain delusion and a snare to all good and 
virtuous women! (Throws it in fireplace and stabs with 
poker.) There! You deceitful old Ethelbert Ferdinand 
DeLancy! Take that, and that, and that, and just burn, 
and bum, and burn, forever and ever! 

Jake peeps in with armfid of wood, then enters slowly, 
looking all around, eyes and mouth wide open. 

Jake. Lem asked me to fix up the fire for the lady^ 
'Lindy ; but gosh all fish-hooks ! Didn't look for to find 
you here. (Throws wood down between bed and fireplace.) 
What in the world are you doing with that poker, 'Lindy 
Bendy ? 

Melinda. Cremating a ''has-been." 

Jake (sighs). Well, seems Hke I'd rather be a ''has- 
been" than a "never-was." (Looks all around, listens at 
all doors, cautiously.) 

Melinda (rises, staring at him). Now, what's up, Jake 
Hoover ? 

Jake. Speaking of weddings — 

Melinda (meets him center rooin). Well, wa'n't no- 
body speaking o' weddings so far's I've heard, but — (looks 
down bashfidly). 

Jake. I got something on my mind, 'Lindy. 

Melinda. For the land's sakes! You don't say. Better 
see a doctor, Jake Hoover, before it strikes in. 

Jake. 'Tain't doctoring I need. 

Melinda. Then what? 



12 STAR BRIGHT 

Jake. Nursing. 

Melinda. Good land! Who'd you think's going to be 
nursing you? 

Jake. Say, 'Lindy. 

Melinda. Well. (Pause.) Fm listening. 

Jake. Don't you think you'd kind o' like to have one 
o' your own? 

Melinda. One o' what? A doctor or a nurse, or — 

Jake. A wedding. 

Melinda (feigning great surprise). With lots of flow- 
ers and white ribbon, and lace-paper cake, and a white 
dress, and a veil — 

Jake. Well, I ain't so all-fired particular 'bout any o' 
them things, but I'm just a raving lunatic to have — 

Melinda. What ? ' 

Jake. A red vest and a green necktie, and — 'Lindy 
Bendy to tie it. 

-Melinda. Are you sure you mean it, Jake? 

Jake. I've kinder had a notion I meant it for twelve 
or thirteen years, 'Lindy, so I'm pretty sure it's solid. 

Melinda. And you won't never deceive me? 

Jake. Good land, no! 

Melinda. Nor flirt with other women? 

Jake. Not unless I lose my mind. 

Melinda. Nor get drunk? 

Jake. Nothing stronger'n sweet cider for mine, 'Lindy. 

Melinda. Nor have your picture taken under fancy ro- 
mantic names to fool some silly girl? 

Jake. Cross my heart, I won't. 

Melinda. Then I guess I'll just have to say yes. 
You're a perfect angel, Jake Hoover. 

Jake. In these overalls? Maybe I be, but I had a dif- 
ferent notion of angels myself. At last it's out and I'm 
in it. Come to my arms, oh, 'Lindy, my love! 

Melinda (in his arms). Ain't you romantic, though? 
And I'll write a piece of poetry about it — 

Jake. Oh, you needn't go to all that trouble, 'Lindy. 

Melinda. 'Sh! I hear some one. (Hastily busies herself, 



STAR BRIGHT yz 

straightening books on table. Jake piles up his wood in- 

dustrioiisly.) ^^ ^ ^ 

^ Mrs. B. enters L. 

Mrs. B. Did I leave the shears in here, Madame Or- 
mand? Oh, just you here, 'Lindy? 

Melinda {bashfully, nodding toward Jake, sheepishly). 
Me and Jake. 

Mrs. B. I see. {Walks dozvn.) How are you this 
morning, Jake? 

Jake (turning in affected surprise). Eh? What? Did 
somebody say something? {Jumps up.) Oh, it's you, Miss 
Bright. Fm fair to middhng. I was so busy I didn't see 
you coming, and — {Turns L., trying to whistle carelessly.) 

Mrs. B. {looking in bewilderment from^ one to the 
other). Why, what — 

Melinda. Jake! {He turns. She motions to him to 
tell Mrs. B.) 

Jake {walks up, front of dresser). Say, Miss Bright. 

Mrs. B. {looks up from searching table). Well. 

Jake {walks down to front again). Ain't women blamed 
curious critters? 

Melinda {throws herself in chair front of dresser). 
Oh, Jake! 

Mrs. B. {looking up again). Why, what do you mean, 
Jake? 

Jake {walking back toward Melinda, Mrs. B. now on 
R. of table, searching). Why, you see, you can know 'em 
for years and years till they're old and gray and toothless 
(Melinda groups angry) and like 'em as hard as a mule 
can kick all the time, but never let on, and then, all of a 
sudden, you bristle up your feathers, and — there you be! 

Mrs. B. I don't understand. You mean — {looks from 
him to Melinda). 

Jake. This. {Steps behind Melinda's chair, lays hand 
on shoulder, stands straight and stiff, other hand in front 
of coat. She folds hands primly on lap. Country pho- 
tographer old-fashioned pose. He nods to reflection in 
mirror.) 

Mrs. B. {following his nod). I see. And I'm just as 



74 STAR BRIGHT 

glad as you are. (Shakes hands with each and they bozv 
repeatedly, smiling radiantly.) 

Jake. I better go and tell Lem now. (Starts C, keeps 
looking hack at Melinda, with silly grin, very reluctant to 
go. At C. turns hack, throws kiss. After exit, opens door, 
sticks head in, throws kiss, etc., ad lib.) 

Melinda. Who'd ever have believed Jake had so much 
poetry about him? Ain't he just the best ever? I must 
go see how my dinner's cooking. Want a right swell wed- 
ding supper for Sunny, don't we? (Exits C.) 

Mrs. B. (still searching, picks up Star's photograph 
from dresser). I wonder what there is about Madame Or- 
mand that reminds me of Star. Star was just a little girl 
in short dresses, with bows in her hair yet, but there's some- 
thing — oh, everything makes me think of Star these days: 
I do wish I could see her eyes without those glasses. 
(Puts down picture.) I can't find those shears anywhere. 
(Looks around, then starts L.) 

Star enters C. 

Star. Can I help you, Mrs. Bright? 

Mrs. B. No. I was only looking for the shears. I 
must have left them somewhere else. 

Star (goes table, searching). Let me see. (Vause.) 
It must be hard to have your little girl married off so 
young, Mrs. Bright? 

Mrs. B. (follozving to tahle). Hard? Oh, you can't 
realize how hard. I don't dare stop to think of it, or I'd 
break right down. 

Star. Why do you permit it? 

Mrs. B. (sinks chair, front dresser). You don't know 
her father, Madame Ormand, or you wouldn't need to ask. 
There's no permit about it. It's all submit. 

Star. Is she your only child? 

Mrs. B. I — I — (rises, trembling, and searches dresser- 
top nervously). I fear so, Madame Ormand. Yes, I — 
I — think so. Here are the shears now. I must hurry or 
Sunny will be late getting dressed. (At door L.) I had 



STAR BRIGHT 75 

another girl once, and the loss of her almost broke my 
heart. (Exits L.) 

Star {follows with arms outstretched). Mother! 
Mother! {Pauses at door.) No, no! Not yet! Not yet! 
{Leans outstretched arms on closed door, bows head on 
them and sobs. After pause goes C, throws hall door wide 
open.) I thought I heard a familiar step. {Looks out in 
each direction.) Mr. Smith said Arthur would pass here 
in a few minutes. I must see him. {Sits bed, watching 
through open door anxiously.) There he comes now. No, 
that is that funny Mr. Hoover. (Jake passes through hall 
from R. to L., looks slyly in as he passes.) If I can only 
keep from making an open scene and shattering poor 
mother's nerves completely. There he is! {Jumps up, 
stands back, watching.) Ah, I'd know that step among a 
million. Yes, it is he at last — face to face again after all 
these years. (Westcott reaches door from R.) Mr. 
Westcott. 

Westcott {surprised, but polite). Yes. 

Star. Won't you step inside a moment, please? I'd 
like just a few words with you in private. 

Westcott enters slowly, as if mystified. 

Westcott. With me? I don't understand. 

Star {closes door behind him, locks it, then turns key 
in door L.). Yes, Mr. Pulver, with you. {Walks to 
dresser.) 

Westcott {instantly anxious). My name's Westcott. 

Star. Yes ? 

Westcott {nervously walking toward her). Who are 
you? 

Star {removes glasses, faces him). Just — 

Westcott {staggering backward). Star Bright! 

Star {alarmed). Hush! {Goes L. door, listens, then 
walks back.) 

Westcott. Charmed to meet you again, I'm sure. You 
look lovelier than ever after all these years, blessed if you 
don't. You've not got a kiss for me, have you? {Advances 
toward her.) 



16 STAR BRIGHT 

Star (steps back, repels him zvith hand). Back! 

Westcott {backs to position right of table). Oh, very 
well. I wasn't crazy about it at all. But what brought 
you back here? How dared you come? Why — 

Star. I came for two purposes, Arthur — to claim my 
rights and to save my sister. 

Westcott." Now, what are you driving at? 

Star. You know well enough. I mean that this farce 
of a wedding shall never be staged. 

Westcott. Who's to prevent it? 

Star. I am. You shall not ruin that little girl's life as 
you ruined mine. 

Westcott. I didn't ruin your life. You have name, 
fame, fortune and favor. What more does any woman 
want? You could never have won it but for me. Why, 
you should thank me. 

Star. Thank you? Was it your fault that I did not 
sink lower and lower to the very depths of woman's greatest 
degradation? Was it your fault that there was that within 
me that defied the power of even your wickedness, and 
would not be crushed out of me? 

Westcott {sarcastically). Gee! They've made an Al 
tragedy actress out of you, all right, all right. I didn't 
think it was in the silly little fool that followed me so 
meekly. 

Star. You never knew that little fool, Arthur. Now 
she comes back to warn you to — 

Westcott. Well, out with it. To what? 

Star. Go quietly away. 

Westcott. Play the quitter? Never. Too good a game. 

Star. Then I shall — 

Westcott. What? 

Star. Tell them the truth. 

Westcott. Bosh ! You wouldn't dare. 

Star. I dare anything — to save my sister. 

Westcott. And do you think you will save her after 
all your high, tragedy? 

Star. I know I shall. {He laughs scornfully). 

Westcott. Sounds good, all right — exciting, you know 



STAR BRIGHT 11 

— melodramatic and all that, but — it won't work. (Walks 
door C, turns key.) 

Star {following him). You refuse to go? 

Westcott. Certainly. T'm enjoying myself here alto- 
gether too much to tear myself away in the very hour of 
my triumph. You're crazy. {Opens door.) 

Star. Then you give me leave to — 

Westcott {zuith low, mocking how). Do your worst, 
madam. I defy you. {Exits.) 

Star {drops to lounge). I hoped he would listen to 
reason. I might have known him better — ^but still — {knock 
door L., she jumps up.) 

Sunshine {out L., tries to open-door). Madame! May 
we please come in to your mirror? (Star hastily turns 
key, rushes to dresser, resuming glasses, then hurries to 
fireplace.) We can't see quite all there is of me in mine. 

Star {drops in rocker by fire). Certainly. Come right 
in. {Grabs book.) 

Bird enters L. with Sunshine, leads her to glass. 

Bird. Too bad to bother you, Madame, but that little 
dinky mirror of hers is no use in the world when one comes 
to drape a wedding veil — 

Star {over shoulder). No bother at all, girls. Make 
yourselves perfectly at home. 

Sunshine {at mirror). Isn't she dear? {Studies re- 
flection.) It is a pretty gown, isn't it? 

Bird. Superb ! And I only wish I could feel sure that 
you w^ould always be happy in it. 

Sunshine. And you, too, Bird. I never told you how 
fine I think Mr. Smith is, nor how I do hope your Hves 
together will be bright. He's just a splendid man, I think, 
and you ought to be so proud of him, and so happy. 

Bird {sighs). Oh, I don't think anyone can ever catch 
happiness in this world. Everybody chases her, of course, 
but it's only to be disappointed. Turn around a minute, 
please. Is that straight, Madame? 

Star {over shoidder). Perfectly. (Pretends to resume 
book.) 



78 STAR BRIGHT 

Sunshine. Oh, Bird! Surely everybody must catch up 
with her sometimes, and hold her close, close in the heart 
for a little while. I'd be so afraid of Hfe if I didn't think 
that. Why, I — I — I've always been happy till — 

Bird. You don't want to marry Mr. Westcott, do you? 
Come, look at me — right in the eyes. Sunshine Bright — 
and own up. 

Sunshine. Why, I — I don't think I wanted to be mar- 
ried at all yet. Bird — to anybody. I'm just a girl, you 
know, and I thought I wanted to try my wings a little 
before I had to be a full-grown woman. (Sighs.) But it 
must be best, or else it wouldn't have to be. (Looks down, 
picks thread from skirt.) 

Bird (stands back, hands on hips, surveying Sunshine). 
Well, I guess it's all right now. You look as lovely as a 
fairy princess — however they look. We'll go back now 
and get the slippers and flumadiddles. Isn't she sweet, 
Madame? 

Star (rising and facing them). As fair as a lily, and 
please God she may always remain so. (Sunshine meets 
her eyes and tries to speak, but chokes with emotion. 
Star follows to door, watching till door closes, then crosses 
to fireplace, standing behind chair.) She does not love him. 
I was determined to make sure of that. I feared her heart 
might have to suffer, but she is mercifully spared the grief 
that shattered mine. (Sits.) I see many things now. ''We 
who are strong have to bear the infirmities of the weak." 
I have always felt that there must be some divine purpose 
in my sorrow and suffering — yes, even in my sin — and now 
I know what it was. I was to suffer all that bitterness to 
save my little sister from a similar fate. It is the price all 
strong souls pay for their strength. They must bear the 
burdens of the weak. (Rises.) Yes, for the first time in 
my life I can say I am glad for all that has happened — 
glad' I was able to bear the cross for her sake. And my 
love for him, unworthy though he seems, has yet lifted 
me up and helped to make me strong and true as all great 
souls should be. 

Bright (out C). Sunshine! Sunshine! Are you ready? 



STAR BRIGHT 79 

Star throws door C. open. Bright enters, closely fol- 
lowed by Westcott and Smith. 

Bright. Excuse me, madam, but I must get my daugh- 
ter — 

Sunshine enters L., followed by Bird, supporting Mrs. B. 

Sunshine. Here I am, papa. I am — ready. (Sun- 
shine and Bright face each other center. Bird and Mrs. 
B. front of lounge. Smith by hall-tree. Star, foot of 
bed. Westcott, back of Bright, at his left.) 

Bright. Come on, then. 

Star {coming forward). Stop, Mr. Bright. This mar- 
riage cannot be. {General consternation.) 

Bright. And why not, madam? 

Star. I forbid it. (Westcott hangs head.) 

Bright. You? {Looks from her to Westcott.) What 
do you mean? 

Star. This man is married already. 

Sunshine. What ? 

Star. I am his wife. 

All. His wife? 

Westcott {suddenly facing her, shaking fist). It is a 
He! {Raises arm.) 

Smith {comes up behind him, catches arm and lowers 
it). Strong language, old fellow. And you're in wrong this 
time. It is not a lie. (Star sits arm of rocker. Bird 
leads Mrs. B. to lounge and seats her carefully. Bright 
stands head of lounge. Sunshine at left of table, rests 
hands on table and listens.) 

Westcott. And who in the devil are you? 

Smith. Who I am makes no difference. It's what I 
am that counts. 

Westcott. Then what — 

Smith. Curb your curiosity, sir. I know you're crazy 
to know all about me, but my business is with this poor 
father and mother who have been so cruelly deceived. Mr. 
Bright, I am not a minister. Mrs. Bright, I am not a doc- 
tor. Westcott, my bright boy, I am not even a phonograph 
salesman. What I am is a private detective, and I've been 



80 STAR BRIGHT 

on the trail of this so-called Arthur Westcott for years — 
just to keep him out of this very brand of mischief. 

Westcott {to Star). This is all your work, damn you! 
(She bows and smiles.) 

Smith {to Bright). You have known of himbefore, sir. 
He didn't always call himself Westcott. Once he was just 
plain Arthur Pulver, with a moustache — {pantomimes 
tzvisting one) oh, my! And a silk hat and a swing. {Pan- 
tomimes fashionable swagger.) Dear me! 

Bright {staring at him). Pulver! (Mrs. B. screams. 
Bird sits by her.) 

Smith. Called himself an actor, then, I believe, instead 
of a painter — never saw any of his pictures, did you? 
And — well, Mr. Bright, when he enticed your daughter to 
give up her happy home for him, with the promise of 
launching her on the stage, he bribed a man to pose as a 
clerg3^man and sham a marriage ceremony. Fortunately 
for your daughter, he didn't use his usual discretion in 
picking out his man, and — well, to be brief, a legal license 
was procured from the proper authorities and the knot 
securely tied by a man who had the right. Your daughter 
Star was legally married to this man. {Motions and Star 
comes forzvard, laying off glasses.) 

Bright and Mrs. B. (together). Star! 

Sunshine {dancing to her). Star Bright! Star Bright! 

Star. Yes, father, mother, it is all true ; and to save 
Sunshine I have even dared to brave your anger and come 
home. (Bright turns azvay.) 

Sunshine {embracing Star). IVe always expected 
something perfectly wonderful to happen to me sometime. 
Every morning I have thought, "Maybe it will happen 
today." And now it's happened — it's happened. {Leads 
Star to Bright.) Papa, you must forgive her. {He looks 
dozvn, shaking head.) 

Mrs. B. Oh, Lemuel, for my sake, if not for hers. 
Let me — {rises, pleading). 

Bright {holds out arms to Star). Lm just a vile worm 
of the dust, but — Star! Star! {She goes to him, he em- 



STAR BRIGHT 81 

braces her, then places her in Mrs. B/s arms and blows 
nose vigorously.) 

Mrs. B. At last! 

Sunshine {runs to Bird and embraces her enthusias- 
tically). Oh, Bird! 

Bird. She'll get well now. (Nods to Mrs. B.) 

Smith (to Westcott). Don't you think you'd better 
make tracks for the woods, old fellow. Things here won't 
taste good any longer. (Westcott bozcs low with, mock 
politejtess.) 

Westcott. \Mth pleasure. (Stai^ts C, speaks over shoul- 
der to Star). You'll get what's coming to you for this, my 
lady. 

Smith. Well, I like that. Don't I get any credit at 
all? Come along, sir. (Escorts Westcott oiit C.) 

Bright. ''As a man soweth" — 

Bird. And now, when I go back to college, I'll keep 
thinking — (walks np tozvard Bright and Mrs. B.) 

Bright. Sunshine shall go with you, Miss Denton. 

Sunshine. Oh, papa! (Jumps up and dozvn). Do 
you — 

Bright. I usually mean what I say, young lady. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Lemuel! Can you mean it? 

Bright (laying hand on her shoulder tenderly). Honor 
Bright. 

Mrs. B. (smiling at him). Thank you. 

Sunshine (dances dozvn left front). This must be the 
day when all our dreams come true. College! The sweet 
white rose on the highest tree of all my thoughts and 
wishes — the goal of every wandering fancy — the air castle 
where all my noblest hopes and aims have been born and 
nourished to life. Am I really, truly going to realize it — 
so soon? (Runs up to Bright.) Papa, you are the very 
best and kindest father in all the world, and I shall bless 
you every day and every hour for this greatest gift of life. 

Bright (holding her in arms). There, there. Sunny. 
Don't say too much. I — I — I'm just a vile worm — 

Sunshine. No such thing. You're a bright purple 
butterfly, with pure gold on your wings. So there! 



82 STAR BRIGHT 

Bright. Besides, it's mostly Star that's worked the 
miracle for you — 

Sunshine {running to her). Dear, golden Star of Love. 
What a splendid family I did have the luck to be born in, 
didn't I? (Embracing Star.) 

Mrs. B. And you have made me so happy, Lemuel. I 
haven't a thing left to wish for in all the world. 

Bright (wipes eyes slyly), I didn't know what joy it 
was to make other folks glad, I guess. I might have begun 
years ago if I had. 

Smith and Smythe enter arm in arm. 

Smythe (crosses to Bird). I have just had a long talk 
with this Smith, Bird, and he has explained the whole situ- 
ation perfectly. I was a fool to be so jealous of you, but 
things certainly did look suspicious to a fellow all in the 
dark. Is it all right now, Bird? 

Bird. More than all right, Walter. It's perfectly heav- 
enly. Sunshine. (Sunshine comes down to them.) You 
haven't met my fiance yet. Permit me to introduce Mr. Wal- 
ter Williams-Smythe — S-m-y-t-h-e — not Smith. (Smythe 
bows over Sunshine^s hand^ extended in bewildered sur- 
prise.) 

Sunshine (turning to Smith). Then you are not Bird's 
lover at all? 

Smith. Not guilty. She never liked the color of my 
hair, nor the way I spell my name. I am William Walker 
Smith — S-m-i-t-h — not Smythe. 

Sunshine. Oh, isn't it strange how things happen? 
And aren't we all happy? And isn't this just the best old 
world that ever was? Why don't everybody dance? 

Smith (with look over shoulder of mock fear of 
Bright). Dance? 'Sh! Have you forgotten — 

Enter Parson Williams. 

Mrs. B. The minister. 

Parson. Miss Bendy said you were all here. Are you 
to have the ceremony in this room? 



STAR BRIGHT 83 

Bright (embarrassed). I'm sorry, Brother Williams, 
but— 

Enter Jake hurriedly, Melinda on arm. 

Jake. Say, Parson,' me and 'Lindy want to get tied up 
right off quick. Being as there don't seem to be no other 
hitching going on here today, we 'lowed as how mebbe 
you'd fix it up for us right now a little cheaper than ordi- 
nary, and — and — what you say, Parson? 

Parson (surprised). But the license — 

Jake. Great snakes! Pve got the papers! (Fishes li- 
cense from pocket, with much elaborate ceremony, and 
hands it proudly to Parson^ who puts on glasses and exam- 
ines paper very carefully.) Always keep 'em right in my 
clothes, 'cause I never could tell just when luck might take 
a turn my way. Been a-gittin' 'em renewed as fast as 
they run out ever sence I fust sot eyes on 'Lindy, and now — 
say, you will give us a bargain, won't you. Parson, now 
you're all fixed and ready for business? 

Parson (looks around group zvith puzzled expression). 
Why — er — if nobody else has any — 

Bright. Go right ahead. Brother Williams. 

Bird. Yes, we'll all give our consent. 

Jake (aside to Parson). Tie it tight. Parson. (Aloud.) 
Come, 'Lindy, don't keep the Parson waiting. (Takes po- 
sition for ceremony as curtain falls.) 

Curtain. 



As a Woman Thinketh 

By EDITH F. A. U. PAINTON. 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy of the period, 3 acts; 9 males, 7 females. Time, 2^ 
hours. Scenes: 2 interiors. Characters: Charles Weeden, just 
an every-day husband. Rev. Dunning a pastor of the past. Will 
Weeden, the son, a bit wild. Caleb Mead, Olive's husband. Jack 
Philley, Beth's old playmate. Chip, an alleged diamond in the 
rough. Jotham, the man of all work. Dr. Hume, not quite an old 
fogy. Prof. Majarajah, a Hindu lecturer on psychology. Mrs. 
Weeden, a mother of the period. Beth, Dolly and Olive, the 
Weedens' daughters. Mrs. Parker, of the modern science club. 
Mrs. Dunning, an italicized echo. Suke, the colored cook. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I.— RESOLUTION. Mrs. Weeden undertakes to clean up. 
The pastor reminds her of her duty. "You are responsible for 
3^our family." A Hindu professor of philosophy. She learns of 
her subconscious mind. Her declaration of independence. 

Act II.— REVOLUTION. The campaign opened. The family 
learn of virtues they were unaware of possessing. "Papa, what 
ails her?" "Is she crazy?" The professor helps "drive the nail." 
According to your faith. 

Act III.— EVOLUTION. The pastor comes to investigate. "It's 
a miracle." A happy home grows out of existing chaos. A humor- 
ous turn of affairs. Duped by an imposter. "Whoever he was, he 
was a Hindu to me." A renewed honeymoon. "As a woman think- 
eth in her heart." 

A Southern Cinderella 

By WALTER BEN HARE. 

Price, 25 Cents 

Comedy drama in 3 acts; 7 females. Time, 2 hours. Scene: 
1 interior. Characters: -Madame Charteris, an old aristocrat. Enid 
Bellamy, a Southern Cinderella. Rosie Winterberry, a famous 
settlement worker. Miss Johnnie Bell Randolph, a little coquette. 
Katherine Hawke, an English nurse. Caroline Hawke, her sis- 
ter, an adventuress. Mammy Judy Johnson, a black blue-grass 
widow. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Act I. — The two Hawkes have their daily quarrel. "Dis yere 
bein' a widow woman is powerful lonesome." "The cream-col- 
ored pick ob de unplucked colored aristocracy.'' A mission of 
mercy. Madame refuses to receive her grandchild. Love con- 
quers pride and Enid comes home. 

Act II. — The plotting of the Hawkes. Madame makes a new 
will. Mammy Judy deserted at the altar. "Ober 'leben dollars 
spent and not eben one cream-colored kiss." The death of Mad- 
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to me." 

Act III. — Katherine and her Paris creation. "Take some of 
dat tail-fixin' and put it ober your shoulders." Enid mistreated. 
A will turns up. A Southern Cinderella comes into her own and 
goes to the ball. 

T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 

154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO 



DENiSON'S ACTING PLAYS 

Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given 



M. F. 

Documentary Evidence, ^25 min. 1 1 

Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 

Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 

First-Class Hotel, 20 min .... 4 

For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 

Fudge and a Burglar, 15-min.. 5 
Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 

30 min 6 10 

Great Doughnut Corporation, 

30 min 3 5 

Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 

Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 

Hans Von Smash, 30 min.... 4 3 

Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 

I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 

Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 

Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 

Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 

Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 

Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 

Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 

Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 

Mrs. Carver's Fancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 
Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agen^ ^0 

min ,. . 3 2 

My Lord in Livery, 1 hr.... 4 3 

My Neighbor's Wife, 45 min.. 3 3 

My Turn Next, 45 min 4 3 

My Wife's Relations, 1 hr. . . . 4 6 

Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 

Obstinate Family, 40 min 3 3 

Only Cold Tea, 20 min .. 3 3 

Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 

Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 

Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 

Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 

Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 

Regular Fix, 35 min- - . , 6 4 

Rough Diamond, 40 min 4 3 

Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 

Smith,' the Aviator, 40 min ... 2 3 

Taking Father's Place, 30 min. 5 3 

Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 

That Rascal Pat, 30 min 3 2 

Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 
Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 

min 3 6 

Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 

Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 

Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 

Two Bonnycastles, 45 min.... 3 3 

Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 1-5 m. 2 

Two Ghosts in White, 20 min . . 8 

Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 

Uncle^ Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 

Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 

Wanted a Hero, 20 min. 1 1 

Which Will He Marry? 20 min. 2 8 

Who Is Who^ 40 min 3 2 

Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 

WroTig Baby. 25 min 8 

Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 



VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- 
OLOGUES. ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. 

M. F. 

Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 

Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.lO 
Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 

Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 

Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min. 1 1 
Coming Champion, 20 min.... 2 
Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m. 14 

Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 

Doings of a Dude, 20 min.... 2 1 

Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 

Five Minutes from Yell Col- 
lege, 1 5 min 2 

For Reform, 20 min 4 

Fresh Timothy Hay, ,20 min ..21 
Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 
Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min. 2 

Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 

Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 

Home Run, 15 min 1 1 

Hot Air, 25 min... 2 1 

Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 

Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 

Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 

Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 
Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 

Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 

Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min.... 1 1 
Mr, Badger's Uppers, 40 min. 4 2 
One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 
Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min.. 4 

Oyster Stew, 10 min.. 2 

Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 

min 1 

Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 

Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 
Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 

Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 

Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 

Si and I, 15 min 1 

Special Sale, 15 min 2 

Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 1 
Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 

Time Table, 20 min 1 1 

Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 
Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 
Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 
Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 

Umbrella Mender, 15 min 2 

Uncle Bill at the Vaudeville. 

15 min 1 

Uncle Teff, 25 min 5 2 

Who Gits de Reward? 30 min. 5 1 



A great number of 

Standard and Amateur Piays 

not found here are listed in 

Denison's Cataioeue 



T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers,154 W. Randolph St. , Chicago 



POPULAR ENTER' 

Price, Illustrated Papi 




:s.DENisoir 

4 COMPANY 
PU8USHERS CHICAGO 



IN this Series 
are found 
books touching 
every feature 
in the enter- 
tainment field. 
Finely made, 
good paper, 
clear print and 
each book has 
an attrac t i v e 
individual cov- 
J er design. 



DIALOGUES 

All Sorts of Dialogues. 

Selected, fine for older pupils. 
Catchy Comic Dialogues. 

Very clever; for young people. 
Children's Comic Dialogues. 

From six to eleven years of age. 
Dialogues for District Schools. 

For country schools. 
Dialogues from Dickens. 

Thirteen selections. 
The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. 

Over 50,000 copies sold. 
From Tots to Teens. 

Dialogues and recitations. 
Humorous Homespun Dialogues. 

For older ones. 
Little People's Plays. 

From 7 to 13 years of age. 
Lively Dialogues. 

For all ages; mostly humorous. 
Merry Little Dialogues. 

Thirty-eight original selections. 
When the Lessons are Over. 

Dialogues, drills, plays. 
Wide Awake Dialogues. 

Brand new, original7 successful. 

SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES 

Choice Pieces for Little People. 

A child's speaker. 
The Cornic Entertainer. 

Recitations, monologues, dialogues. 
Dialect Readings. 

Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. 
The Favorite Speaker. 

Choice prose and poetry. 
The Friday Afternoon Speaker. 

For pupils of all ages. 
Humorous Monologues. 

Particularly for ladies. 
Monologues for Young Folks. 

Clever, humorous, original. 
Monologues Grave and Gay. 

Dramatic and humorous. 
The Patriotic Speaker. 

Master thoughts of master minds. 



*\^EI4T BOOKS 

018 378 020 7' •; 

Pomes ov tne i-ww^ ^ _ ' 

Wit, humor, satire, funny poems. 
Scrap. Book Recitations. 

Choice collections, pathetic, hu- 



Sr o 
o. S 



morous, descriptive, 

poetry. 14 Nos., per No. 25c. 

DRILLS 

The Best Drill Book. 

Very popular drills and marches. 
The Favorite Book of Drills. 

Drills that sparkle with originality. 
Little Plays With Drills. 

For children froni 6 to 11 years. 
The Surprise Drill Book. 

Fresh, novel, drills and marches. 

SPECIALTIES 

The Boys' Entertainer. 

Monologues, dialogues, driils. 
Children's Party Book. 

Invitations, decorations, games. 
The Days We Celebrate. 

Entertainments for all the holidays. 
Good Things for Christmas. 

Recitations, dialogues, drills. 
Good Things for Thanksgiving. 

A gem of a book. 
Good Things for Washington 

and Lincoln Birthdays. 
Little Folks' Budget. 

Easy pieces to speak, songs. 
One Hundred Entertainments. 

New parlor diversions, socials. 
Patriotic Celebrations. 

Great variety of material. 
Pranks and Pastimes. 

Parlor games for children. 
Private Theatricals. 

How to put on plays. 
Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, 

Charades, and how to prepare. 
Tableaux and Scenic Readings. 

New and novel; for all ages. 
Twinkling Fingers and Sway- 
ing Figures. For little tots. 
Yuletide Entertainments. 

A choice Christmas collection. 

MINSTRELS, JOKES 

Black American Joker. 

Minstrels' and end men's gags. 
A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. 

Monologues, stump speeches, etc. 
Laughiand,vla the Ha-Ha Route. 

A merry trip for fun tourists. 
Negro Minstrels. 

All about the business. 
The New Jolly Jester. 

Funny storied, jokes, gags, etc. 

Larse Illustrated Catalogue Free 



T.S.DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers,154 W.Randolph St.,Chicaco 



